Passing Time
by Jaymi
Summary: Sequel to 'Senses Of Insecurity'. This year Buffy and Spike's relationship progresses worryingly, confusing both parties, but when they have to take a trip together to save the world things change permanently. B/S. WIP.
1. Canto I

Passing Time

_Your skin like dawn   
Mine like dusk _

_One paints the beginning   
Of a certain end. _

_The other, the end of a   
Sure beginning _  
Passing Time' by Maya Angelou 

Plot: Sequel to 'Senses Of Insecurity'. Last year Angelus was sent to Hell, Dru fled town and Spike stayed to help Buffy. This year Buffy and Spike's relationship progresses worryingly, confusing both parties, but when they have to take a trip together to save the world things change permanently. B/S. WIP.   
Disclaimer: Any characters you recognise belong to Joss, ME... you get the idea.   
Author's Note: This is the R-rated version. For the chapters that are NC-17 I'll post the edited versions here and link to the unedited ones at the time.   
Previously in **Senses Of Insecurity**: Angel was killed by Giles, Jenny was killed by Angelus, Dru escaped, Buffy and Spike defeated a big-bad and hooked up. Three, or so, months later... 

Canto I

"Halfway along the road we have to go 
I found myself obscured in a great forest, 
Bewildered, and I knew I had lost the way..."
'The Divine Comedy' by Dante Alighier

The coupled walked through the cemetery curled around each other. The man's arm was draped around his date's waist, the hand creeping down to rest on her rear. It was a dangerous time to be walking amongst graves, but their destination demanded it. The girl snuggled up against the man, wrapping one arm around him, and whispered something that made them both smile. 

In front of them on the dilapidated path a figure peeled away from the shadows. He was beautiful. Not a word usually used for men, but for this one their was no other description. The coupled stopped and stared at this stranger, waiting for him to speak. He didn't. Instead his face morphed into something horrible. From a nightmare. His smooth skin grew ridges and bumpy, his eyes flashed a dangerous gold and his teeth... Turned into something from a B-Movie. Vampires weren't supposed to be real though. 

The woman cowered behind her date, hands supportive against his back. He seemed largely unfazed, stepping away from the woman behind him until she was left to hug herself in the middle of the pathway. 

Nice date you've got there.. murmured the Vampire to the approaching man. 

Yeah. That _I've_ got. So get lost. 

Don't think I can do that, mate. Feeling a bit hungry myself... 

She's _mine_. hissed the man, more annoyed than angry. 

How bout we let her choose, hmm? 

The man laughed and reached backwards for his date. After a moment of hesitation she trotted forward and snaked her arm around his. He whispered something into her ear and she shot a frightened glance towards the Vampire before nodding. 

All right. the man said, full of macho-pride and a little too much alcohol, Honey, which one of us do you fancy? 

The girl stared from her date to the Vampire before her. The man at her side began to frown after she didn't answer immediately. Finally she turned to him, and he smiled at her decision, before the stake was rammed through his heart. He didn't even have time to shake off his human face before he exploded into dust. 

The girl, the Slayer, Buffy, watched the monster she had been walking with crumble into ashes. And then watched those ashes fall to the floor. She breathed in deeply and tried to banish every second of his flesh on hers from her mind before she turned to the Vampire who was standing still at her side. He eyed her suspiciously for a moment before she advanced on him and placed a gentle kiss on his lips. 

I think you enjoy this too much, Slayer. Spike complained, as the walked leisurely through the tombstones. 

she inquired, shifting her shoulders a little under the weight of his arm. 

Taking Vamps out here and killing them. Letting them drape themselves over you. 

...Anyone would think you were jealous, Spike. Buffy said calmly, her eyes scanning the darkness. 

Bloody right I am. he said, his voice mild as if this was a conversation they had experienced before, You're the Slayer, you should be able to kill them easily without having to tempt them outside. To me. 

Its more fun this way. 

More fun because torturing me is fun? 

she grinned, Well, yes, but not just that. Its fun to give them hope then take it away. 

Spike frowned, dropping the strand of her hair he'd been toying with. He was supposed to be the vindictive one, not her. He knew she'd been changing ever since she'd heard about Angelus's death, but he didn't think she'd become so cold. Then again maybe he was just jealous. Not one of those fledglings had the right to put their hands on _his_ girl. The only thing that stopped him from ripping their heads off every night was the fact that his Slayer liked to do it. He felt whipped, though he knew it hadn't come that far yet. Oh no, because she didn't let him touch her more than those wankers did. She'd been touched by her Angel, intimately, and nothing else was good enough for her. Certainly not the demon walking next to her. If he sounded bitter it was because he was. Or perhaps he just wasn't used to being with a human. Touching her frustrated and aroused him all in one moment, but the things that they had done so far had all been very tame. 

Yeah. But you still don't need to get so bloody close to them. he growled, obviously giving in. 

I'll try not to... she said, her voice taking on that humouring-tone which he knew meant she wouldn't give it a second thought. He sighed. After the long kiss-n-groap of pre-battle a few months ago they had hardly been very intimate. They'd walked back to the Library together, arm-in-arm and grins plastered over their faces. Only to be confronted by her friends in a fluster over whether they were alive or dead -- whether _Buffy_ was alive or dead -- and ready to go out in search for them -- her. It'd almost been funny until they'd heard the news of Angel's death. That was the moment that their relationship' had started waning. 

You got school tomorrow, luv? 

Yep... First day back.... she said, the distance in her voice indicating that she was not entirely focused on him. 

Spike slowed to a stop and guided her around to face him. Her eyes only met his at the last moment after scouring the graveyard one final time. He watched her for a moment, eyes looking into eyes, his hand toyed with the material of her jacket where it puckered at her unfolded elbow. Under his scrutiny she finally broke the silence. 

He seemed to consider for a second what he was about to say, almost always a sign that what was about to come from his mouth would be rude, or uncomfortable. To coax an answer out of him, and break the stare that was quickly making her nervous, Buffy leant forward and pressed her lips to his in a chaste kiss. As if snapping him out of a trance he moved lightening fast to wrap his arms around her and press their bodies together. She complied passively, not resisting, not encouraging. His embrace was tight and warming in the cool night, and slowly she moved her arms around him in a mirror of his own actions. 

He forced his lips down onto hers in a bruising kiss, his tongue caressing her lower lip after a brief moment. She opened her mouth in compliance, but his tongue still drifted around her lips teasingly. Buffy angled her head a little more and brought their bodies tighter together. His tongue flitted into her mouth and then out again. With the faintest moan of giving in she reacted to the kiss violently, thrusting her tongue against his and pressing on the back of his neck with her hands as if she was trying to swallow him whole. He growled faintly, and she knew he liked it. He fisted the hair at the back of her head until strands pulled painfully on her scalp. And God help her, she liked it as well. 

When they drew away from each other, it was not far, their bodies still entangled even as their lips parted. Spike cautiously gauged her reaction, and after a moment she flashed him a bright smile. Only then did he echo it with a smirk of his own, that could have flickered into a smile in a second if he had wanted to lose all dignity. Or more certainly, if _she_ had wanted to lose all dignity. But he didn't think that a graveyard was the spot for her, even if she did like fucking the undead. Spike was broken from his train of thought by her tongue running out and over her kiss-swollen lips. He followed it with his eyes until she returned to grinning again, then he said. 

Are you going to tell me what's wrong now? 

Nothing's wrong. the smile faded a little, then flickered back into full wattage like a faulty light-bulb. But even as she fixed the wavering of her smile, she heard the slight fault in her voice. So she decided to strike first with the questions Why would you think there was? 

You've been quiet all night. Or quiet_er_, I should say. 

I guess... she sighed, breaking down her problem perhaps too easily, I don't know... I'm just worried about going back to school. This is my final year, you know? And I don't know what I'm doing afterwards. What I want to be. What job I want. Do I go to college? I'd like to but I really don't think I'm that smart. Besides the fact that Principal Snyder is gunning for me. 

Want me to eat him for you? 

Buffy smiled softly at some private joke even as she said it. Spike tightened his grip around her middle and she leant her head against his shoulder. It was comfortable, if slightly too intimate to stop him from thinking _other_ thoughts. 

Well, luv, you could do any of those things if you really wanted to. You _are_ that smart. But you already have a job. You're the Slayer. Or one of the Slayers. 

Yeah. And wouldn't that just go down really well with mom. I don't need a job mom, I'm the Slayer' Buffy rose her voice a little as she imitated, Dose that come with a good dental package?', Only if you call getting your teeth kicked out good'. she sighed, Plus it really doesn't bring in the big money... Or any money at all for that matter. 

Somewhere in the middle of speaking Buffy had pulled herself out of his arms and was now turned towards the direction of the path again. But instead of being fixed on the darkness as they were before, her eyes were cast downwards. Spike wrapped his arm around her middle, his hand resting just above her hip where his fingers rubbed at her flesh comfortingly through her T-shirt. The two started walking again. 

Just work on getting through the week... Spike advised, his rebel attitude to most things not extending to school. At least until she wanted to skip to be with him, then he was all for it. He knew education was important to Buffy, and her mom, and to humans in general. He was also aware that he took his own, or William's, for granted sometimes. Spike shook his head slightly to shake away the horribly responsible thoughts he was having. To chase ideas of school from his mind he added, ...Unless you want to spend your days with me... alone... naked... 

Buffy snorted, in a lady-like way. If he hadn't been expecting it then he might have been offended, as it was he simply said, Don't knock it til you've tried it. 

_Then_ do I have your permission to knock it' all I want? 

The Vampire grinned, ...I wouldn't complain. 

Buffy faux-frowned and prodded Spike in the side as they walked, houses beginning to peek through the tree-border of the cemetery. He pretended to flinch at her touch, and look hurt. 

Stop it with the double-entendre. I don't want to think tonight. And I don't want to end up agreeing to something by accident. 

Something like what? Spike prodded. Buffy wriggled from his grip and stepped in front of him. He paused, surprised, and she grinned up at him coyly, eyelashes fluttering. 

Something that a good girl wouldn't do. she said, her voice a low murmur. As he grabbed for her she skipped backwards, then turned and sprinted off into the night. He watched her go for a split-second before taking up the invitation and chasing her. He knew that even if he caught her she wouldn't do any of the things she tempted him with. But it was almost worth it to see the look on her face when she saw -- _felt_ -- what he expected. Almost. 

***

Fingers ripped unintentionally at the bark of the tree. A woman sighed, and the sound was as if she were breathing out all of the worlds pain in one exhalation. She removed her hand from the tree, tucking it safely back inside her sleeve where it could do no damage. Sometimes she was stronger than she meant to be, this world had different limits to the one she was used to. She flipped her hair over her shoulder as if trying to look to her other side. Except all she was doing was enjoying the feeling of the hair tickling her back. Corporeal felt good. 

When she did finally cast her gaze around a little more, her eyes were bored. Searching, but bored. She looked very much as if she was waiting for someone, or a bus, that was clearly not going to turn up. She twirled on the spot suddenly, disturbing dead leaves and twigs on the ground with the hem of her dress. Again she was enjoying the feeling of the world around her, in this case the air against her face, rather than looking for her purpose for being there. 

Complacent she seated herself upon the tree's roots, not caring one bit that her dress was white and that they were moist with moss, and tilted her head upwards to the starry sky. She called out to it loudly with annoyance, as if she fully expected an answer, 

So where's this Warrior then? 


	2. Enough

This is an edited, shorter, chapter. Edited from NC-17 to R. For the full chapter go to http://www.geocities.com/summersomnambulist/fiction/pt2.html. Please come back to review if you feel so inclined.

Enough

_Am I not pretty enough? Is my heart too broken?  
Do I cry too hard? Am I too outspoken?  
Don't I make you laugh? Should I try it harder  
Why do you see right through me?_  
Not Pretty Enough' by Kasey Chambers

His lips descended on hers and she pressed back against them. This moment was perfect. It was as if all time had stopped for just them. Trapped inside this bedroom. No, not trapped... safe. They were safe here. She was safe here. 

His lips lingered on hers for a long moment before kissing their way across her cheek and then down her neck. Each kiss he placed was warm, soft, loving, and she felt the last traces of fear being swept away by that mouth. He began dancing his tongue along the side of her neck, and the energy in the room changed from comfortable to hot. Heated. She shifted beneath him, wondering if she should move or just stay still. She was very inexperienced, could he tell that?

As if he sensed that the fear was coming back his hand played along her thigh as a surprising distraction. His fingers dragged against her skin, leaving her gasping for something she wasn't even sure existed. She bent her knees cautiously and was rewarded by a groan from him. He stopped his ministrations and looked up at her, eyes clouded with lust. Not love, lust.

Are you sure? he asked. And in one silent moment she entertained the possibility of telling him that no' she wasn't sure. Not sure, not certain. Or anything else they said in those millions of chick-flicks that she must have dragged him to. But he was being romantic. Not calculating date-rapist. He just wanted to make... sure. Wanted her to be safe.

she gasped, her voice so breathy she even surprised herself. Was this what sex did to you? Made you into a monosyllabic, clichéd idiot?

***

I'll just... use the shower... she said, rising from the bed. He smiled and nodded, the last image she saw of him before she exited the room being him crawling up to rest his head upon her pillows, a satisfied look upon his face.

She padded across the landing to the bathroom and shut the door definitely behind her. Only when the light was on did she drop the sheet from her body and walk towards the shower. It was as if she was on auto-pilot as she turned the water on and placed a hand under it til cold turned to hot. She was still cruising as she stepped into the shower and let the water run over her body. 

Numbness was slowly spreading over her limbs, her mind. She wasn't sure if she should cry. Would that be bad? He loved her. She shouldn't cry. So it had hurt, she was the Slayer. She didn't cry when things hurt. But then when things hurt her she killed them. She couldn't kill him. She loved him.

Tentatively she brushed one hand down amongst the thatch of curls. It didn't hurt anymore. Not much. It was probably just because it was her first time. Every night was her first time. In a sudden flurry of movement she picked up a brush. One usually used on the hard skin of her feet, and began scrubbing at her body. At first it was just random strokes, then she began to work from the top, down. Her neck felt raw by the time she'd finished with it, but she didn't pause to think as she continued down one arm. The pain, this pain, was an easy distraction from thought. Thought and tears. She wasn't weak, she didn't need to cry over this. It was disgusting, she was disgusting, working herself up over such a small thing... Such a trifle.

Slowly Buffy put down the brush and stared at her one reddened arm that now felt like it was burning. She washed it carefully under the constant spray of water, before turning off the shower and stepping out into the bathroom. 

Picking up a towel she dabbed at her body, then wrung her hair through. She'd have liked to have spent a few more moments cleaning up, but... He was waiting for her to come back. She loved him. And if she just kept repeating that, everything would be okay. 

Before she knew it Buffy was walking back into her room again, sheet held around her with less protectiveness than before. At first she thought he was asleep, but when she closed the door and turned back around his eyes were open.

You're beautiful.

Thank you. she breathed, climbing into bed beside him. One of his arms encircled her waist and he pulled her closer to him.

Your neck's red.. he said absently, placing a kiss upon the affected area.

Oh. Is it? The water was a little too hot. she lied easily. He accepted her explanation. She thought he was going to go to sleep then, and she let out a relieved sigh. But instead he asked another question.

Do you love me, Buffy?

Of course I love you. she answered automatically.

Of course you do.. he smiled, reassured, And even if I... change... you'll still love me, right?

The question seemed to make her sad, but she couldn't quite remember why.

Yes. Of course. I'll love you forever, Angel.

Even if I do something wrong...?

Even if I hurt you?

Even if I... die?

Her throat tightened, Of course.

Of course. he echoed, his voice intoxicated by sleep moments before his body was. 

Buffy stared at the smile on his face, innocent and loved, as he slept. She had to remind herself a few times that Vampires didn't breath as she looked at his static chest. Consciously she turned around so that she wasn't looking at him and stared at the clock beside her bed. Just past two, like every night. She laid her head down on her pillow slowly and closed her eyes. Begging for sleep.

***

The woman paced through the streets of the town, her white dress spilling out on the tarmac of the pavement, yet never dragging as she moved. Every now and again she would skip a few steps, 

Step on a crack: break your mothers back. she said, loudly, in a singsong voice. 

A man huddled in a shop doorway slowly pulled his blanket up over his head. Perhaps he had spotted that she seemed to be purposefully stepping on each crack. The woman noticed his chagrin and snapped,

Oh, like you've never heard that one before! 

But she wasn't angry. She might have been sent on a fool's errand. But she wasn't angry. She settled a happy smile on her face to prove it. She felt that the Warrior was close. The Saviour. The person she was searching for. And it wasn't so much that she was scared for her people -- _let them all burn, they usually liked that_ -- it was really just something to do. Something she'd been ordered to do, true, but still something to do.

The woman hopped from the pavement to the road, and winced as gravel stuck into her bare feet. Pain. Great. Just another reason to smile. She lifted up one foot and brushed the semi-imbedded stones away before continuing on her way through -- and across -- the darkened high-street of Sunnydale, California.

***

It seemed as if no sooner had she closed her eyes than Buffy woke up. Really woke up. From sleep, and from _the_ dream. It was kinda stupid, she thought, for a Slayer to have a reoccurring dream about sex with some of the dead undead. But it happened. Every night. It was as if she was leading a double life when she slept. It could have been a Slayer-dream, she supposed. Slayer nightmare. Except it wasn't telling her anything about impending doom. It was just shaming her. Telling her she should feel bad. Making her feel bad. After what she did to Angel. And how she handled his death. And possibly even about how she couldn't get over it. Move on. Forget one undead boyfriend for another. 

If Spike hadn't been a Vampire that excuse might have been believable. He had dogged her during her waking hours just as Angel did while she slept. And she didn't even love him. She wanted him though. And she put up a good enough pretence of the other. Not that he loved her either, she had no disillusionment on that subject. He'd only ever mentioned the word love' to her once. And that had been months ago when they'd first officially hooked up. He was using her as much as she was using him. But it would be over soon, she guessed. And that idea somehow made her feel better.

Buffy turned her head to the side, her mind tripping from one Vampire and back to the other. Angel. The dream. That night, which almost mirrored that her own first time. Buffy stared at her clock through the darkness of the room and found it was only just past two in the morning. She waited for the tears to start falling, as they usually did. Falling from her eyes and into her pillow until she could sleep again, unhindered, and then wake again in the morning with the dream and its aftermath seeming never to have happened. She waited, but the tears didn't come. No release. No sorrow. No pain. Just waiting. After a long moment of trying to cry she stopped. It was useless. She was useless. She'd just have to go to bed unsated, just like dream-Buffy. 

But as she tried to fall into the promised oblivion a question from her dream sprang up in her mind again to disturb her. Abridged. And in a different context. Or possibly not, it was all so foggy. And she just couldn't help wondering if it was valid. True. If the answer she thought was true. Whatever it was about the question, it kept haunting her. Touching her. Intimately. Raping her confidence at the moments she need it most. 

Was she not _good_...?

(Author's Note: And if you're reading this chapter and thinking 'huh?' you probably didn't see the note at the top. I'd love to post the NC-17 version here, but I think it would be irresponsible for me to do so under the labelling of an R-rated fic. No matter how many warnings I give. And because ff.net doesn't like NC-17 any longer I saw the post-a-link as the simplest solution. Ce la ve. I'd like to thank everyone who has reviewed so far, and pre-emptively thank anyone who is soon to review. I'm glad that you've found the sequel, and I hope this chapter wasn't too disturbing for you all.... Or upsetting for Angel fans, because don't get me wrong, I love the big-overhanging-forehead-dude. Really. I hope the storyline is intriguing enough to keep people reading. If I don't post again for a while, everyone have a good Holiday. And Christmas too, if you celebrate that.)


	3. Time

Time

_And I'm haunted  
By the lives that I have loved  
And actions I have hated  
I'm haunted  
By the promises I've made  
And others I have broken  
I'm haunted  
By the lives that wove the web  
Inside my haunted head _  
Haunted' by Poe

Buffy watched the scenery spin past from the car window. Streets and streets of houses that all looked the same. It was depressing. Not in the my parents won't let me out tonight I'm so depressed' kinda way, but in the I feel like killing myself' way. Not that she was feeling that bad, but since she'd become the Slayer she'd become very careful about throwing around words like suffering' and depression' in unworthy contexts. The reason the houses were depressing was because they were filled with people she had to protect. Made more depressing by the fact that she frequently had to protect them from members of their own families, turned demon. It was enough to make any person less-than-beaming every morning.

That plus the fact that it was the first day of school. It actually wasn't that far way from her house, but it was... traditional for her mom to drive her to school the first day of a new term. It was a fear thing when she was little, and a comfort thing when she was older, now it was just because she wanted everything to appear the same. Buffy slowly found herself watching the sunlight reflecting on the car windows rather than looking out of them. 

So you're all set then? her mom asked brightly.

Buffy jerked slightly and straightened in her seat. She flipped the mirror down from the car ceiling and started adjusting her hair neurotically.

Yeah. Books. Pens. Got it all.

Joyce voiced, turning the car around a corner.

Buffy stopped adjusting and stared at her own face in the mirror. She'd gone for the natural look, which just meant she was wearing make-up to make it look like she wasn't wearing make-up. Her hair was tied back in a tidy ponytail with a few strands loose to frame her face. This was also a back-to-school ritual. Of course once she got amongst her peers she usually forgot it all anyway. Which could lead to embarrassing lipstick stains as she wiped her mouth, sometimes. 

You look beautiful honey. her mom reassured.

Buffy shot a furtive glance at her mother and caught her fiddling with her skirt again. It was simple beige and wrapped her legs tightly to just below the knees. It wasn't that it was uncomfortable. Her mother was a very practical woman and wouldn't wear something uncomfortable just because it looked nice. Buffy knew that the reason for her mother's fidgeting was that she was remembering the scar on her thigh. And it made Buffy feel so... guilty. One word in pale scar-tissue, probably forever, emblazoned on her mother's leg: SOON. It was a lasting reminder, as if they needed one, of Angelus and what he had done. But he was dead, and Buffy couldn't hate him anymore. She could only hate herself for bringing him near her mother. And for being so stupid as to trust a Vampire. 

Thanks mom.

Is William coming around this evening?

He.... I don't know. I don't think so. Buffy spluttered. Her mother had taken to calling her boyfriend William, because she insisted Spike was not a real name. It had been funny to watch Spike politely take it and not argue. Buffy said with more certainty, I'm going out with Willow tonight, remember mom?

Oh. I know.. she said, twisting the steering wheel again and fiddling with the indicators, But he might have come around later so I just wanted to know. she paused, Not too late though.

No. Not too late. Buffy echoed distractedly, returning her attention to the car's external surroundings. Her mother sighed and decided not to press. Soon they were turning into the street crowded with children. Teenagers. And a brave smile was etched onto Buffy's face. Joyce pulled the car to a stop.

Well. Here we are... Have a good day honey.

I will mom. Buffy grabbed her bag and pushed the car door open to step out onto the pavement.

Joyce called after her daughter, but she doubted that the girl heard her. Joyce sighed again and pulled away from the sidewalk. Instead of turning it to go home, or ever to the gallery, she drove it a little further up the road before parking there. She didn't hesitate as she got out of the vehicle. Or when she headed back towards the school.

***

Xander called across the near-empty school courtyard. He was jogging and was sure to catch her, but it did no harm to call out and make sure she would wait for him. A few months ago he wouldn't have needed the reassurance. Things change.

Hey Xander.. Willow said with a smile, turning around and walking backwards to class as she greeted him. Xander grinned and patted Willow on the shoulder.

Turn round Will. Don't want you to fall and get hurt.

I'm not that clumsy. Willow pouted, turning around.

Oh, I know. But just in case... ya know... I don't want to be ripped apart at the next full moon because of you tripping right now and bruising something... tender.

Willow smacked Xander in the arm and he feigned pain right before they both broke out into smiles. They walked into the coolness of a school corridor and immediately slowed their pace. Neither was really keen to get to the Gym.

So, you seen Buffy yet...? Willow asked offhandedly, sneaking a sly glance at Xander to gauge his facial response to the question. He frowned.

You're going to have to speak to her sometime.

I know--

--I mean, do you want to be her friend or not? You've got to be supportive.

I am supportive! Passively supportive. I'm supportive by not jamming a stake through Spike's undead heart. That's support. He sighed, And its not like I don't talk to her. We talk. Polysyllabic words and everything. But sometimes I can't stop saying it.. That he's bad for her... Its just... He doesn't make her happy, Will, you know?

Willow kept her face impassive. But she did know. From the months when she'd suspected something had been going on with Buffy and Spike, to the months when something had officially been going on with Buffy and Spike, her best friend hadn't seemed all that cheerful. But she was sure part of that was to do with Angel. And part of it was to do with Xander. And a lot of it was to do with Giles. She didn't understand fully the reasons for Giles's disgust at Buffy and Spike's relationship, she knew he loved his Slayer like a daughter, but Xander had explained to her once that it was something to do with Jenny. Jenny, and the mansion, and that night. Everything seemed to have started then. Including her spell-casting. 

I think you--we should just keep Buffy's private life, private. If she wants our help she'll ask for it. _I hope_, We're her friends, we can't drop her just because of a--because of Spike.

You're right, Will. Xander sighed, I hope that she still wants to be friends.

Of course she does Xander.

Ready to brave Gym? Xander asked, looking for a reason to change worn-thin subject. Their main topic of discussion over the summer had been Buffy. He was beginning to think that Willow's words actually were right about butting out of Buffy's private life. But he still wanted her to be happy.

Even less than you'd imagine. Willow answered. Both friends grinned, So where's Cordy?

Holiday. She's coming into school a week late or something. Got Snyder to agree and everything.

Money talks. Willow said wisely.

Hmm... either that or she flashed him some cleavage.... But that's a possibility I really don't want to think about.

Me neither. Willow said, nose wrinkled. They both found themselves outside the changing room doors, I guess there's no getting out of this... Willow sniffed, placing a hand on the door of the girl's changing room bravely, ...See you in there... she said before disappearing.

See you. Xander echoed before disappearing also. Thoughts of Buffy banished temporarily from his mind by thoughts of Gym, girls in tight fitting clothing, and Cordelia Chase flashing Principal Snyder.

***

The woman stared down at the thing before her with horror. Her mouth was open, eyes wide, and her fingers dug into the countertop in front of her as if she was trying to break through it.

she said slowly, fury in her voice, ... do you call this?

Ice cream. the man behind the counter said thickly. He was probably little older than eighteen and wearing a mint-green and white uniform that clashed unfortunately with pale skin and red hair. Though the pale skin might just have been from his customer's anger. She set a sarcastic smile on her face,

No shit Sherlock. Why, when I asked for double-chocolate fudge with nuts, did you give me simply chocolate?

he leant backwards on the balls of his feet to check the stock, before meeting her eyes again, We're out.

Then wouldn't it be more polite to tell me instead of trying to fob me off with something else for the _same price_. the woman seemed to have calmed a little, but her lips were stretched thinly across her mouth to show that the little wasn't much. Customers in the queue behind her were looking around the shop and pretending not to listening. 

Sorry ma'am. the man said, his voice clearly not conveying the emotion of regret. In a second he found the short woman's hand wrapped around his collar and his face forced down close to hers. 

Don't bullshit me, she hissed into his face, no trace of scent on her breath, Say you're sorry. Like you mean it. Then ask me, all polite-like, if I'd like another flavour, on the house.

The man gasped, trying to struggle out of the woman's grip and failing. After what seemed like a long moment, where his co-workers had made it blatantly obvious they weren't going to help him, he seemed to smarten up. He smiled down at the woman politely, his eyes showing a little too much white for him to be truly sincere, but that was probably just the fear.

I'm sorry ma'am, I'm not sure what came over me, would you like another flavour? he said it with complete calmness in his voice, which only wavered slightly when she had to tighten her grip to remind him to say, ...On the house, of course. Immediately she let go and he slumped against the counter, chocolate ice-cream smeared down the front of his white apron.

That wasn't so hard now was it honey. she rolled her eyes upwards for a moment before saying, I'll have strawberry.... I assume you have that.

he said, busying himself behind the counter. The woman watched him with one eye as she stepped out of the queue and onto an empty stool. She didn't want any more surprises in her food. After a moment she found a copious amount of ice-cream placed in front of her, saliva free.

Thank you. she said, flashing the man a smile as if she'd not just been threatening him a few moments before. He blinked at her, clearly surprised by her sudden mood change. She pushed the bowl delicately to the side and leant forward, almost as if she was flirting with him, Now that's sorted out.. she purred, ...have you seen anyone... heroic... in town lately?

***

Giles placed the tall pile of books down on the table and began to sort through them. Surprisingly enough these were actual school books for actual students to take out, should they wish it. He was very strict about not letting his job as a Watcher interfere too much with his job as a Librarian, even if saving the world was slightly more important than cataloguing.

Joyce walked in through the Library doors, causing Giles to almost drop the book he was holding. Instead he placed it carefully down before turning fully towards the mother of his Slayer to flash her a smile that showed nothing of the nervousness he was feeling. Joyce didn't visit the school for no reason.

Hello Mr Giles. Joyce said with confidence, as if she had the whole conversation that was about to take place planned out in her head.

...Hello Mrs Summers. Giles said after hesitating.

Joyce, please. she insisted, hands playing on her beaded purse the only thing that betrayed her uncertainty.

Joyce, of course, would you like to... sit down?

No thank you. I'm here to talk about Buffy.

I guessed as much. Giles sighed. He'd been expecting her to come to him eventually. Off her curious look her elaborated, I take it this is about Spike.

she blinked, clearly thrown for a moment, In fact William seems to be the only positive thing that has happened to my daughter over the last few months.

You...You like him? Giles was surprised and he didn't even try to hide it. He wouldn't have expected Buffy to have even introduced Spike to her mother, let along for the woman to like him. The Vampire could be horribly obnoxious if he wanted to be.

He's polite. He's a gentleman. she explained, And he's not the reason I'm here.

Giles raised a hand to his forehead as if trying to rub a headache away, What is it you wanted to talk to me about?

I'm worried about Buffy, she seems distant. She hasn't been sleeping well, or eating properly and the only time she seems to go out is when William comes around.

Giles tried not to sound angry, but he was. His Slayer was upset and neglected and instead of turning to her friends seemed to prefer to talk to a Vampire. He admitted that he'd been distant himself lately, but like Buffy he'd also had his love die, and it wasn't an easy thing to get over. Xander and Willow should have at least noticed.

I want to know if there's _anything_, anything at all, about Buffy's life that she hasn't told me. The look in Joyce's eyes was earnest and hard, as if she was not going to leave without an answer. An answer that would allow her to help her daughter.

I don't know what to say Joyce, Giles said steadily, trying not to break eye-contact or fidget to show he was lying, What kind of things were you... thinking of?

she suggested with stereotypical motherly concern, Drinking? _Anything_ you can think of.

I haven't seen Buffy much over the summer... Giles said cautiously, But I doubt anything of that sort is going on.

Its not _just_ over the summer. This has been going on for a long time now Mr Giles. Longer than it should have. It used to be late nights and mysterious older men, now she's introverted. Keeping to herself too much. I'm afraid... That something might have happened to her that she won't tell me about. I'm afraid that someone has hurt her, and that I can't do anything to stop it because I don't know what it is... And she won't tell me. And you won't tell me. Joyce swallowed the tears back. She knew from experience they would do her no good. Please tell me, Rupert, if you can think of something that's making my baby act this way. Tell me what's making her hurt.

for a moment Giles wanted to tell her anything. But it was only a fleeting impulse, not only was it Buffy's choice when she told her mother, it was dangerous for Joyce to know. If he told her now it wouldn't just be Buffy's job he'd be revealing, but an underbelly of the world which most people shouldn't have to see. --don't know anything Joyce. I'm sorry. I wish I could be of more help.

Joyce nodded, her eyes cast downwards for a long moment. Outside the Library the halls began to crowd with students moments before the bell for class-change rang. She looked back up at Giles.

If there was anything at all, I know you'd tell me. Because I'm her mother and I love her. Joyce said, clearly trying to make him feel guilty, but Giles didn't waver.

There's nothing going on that I know of Joyce. I'll talk to Buffy if you want...?

Joyce said, disbelief barely masked in her voice, Uh.. Thank you. I'll let you get on with your work.

Thank you. It is quite time-consuming. Have a... good day.

I will. Joyce turned and walked from the Library without another word, leaving Giles to sag against the table and sigh into open hands.

***

Spike leant back against the crimson silk-sheets and stared up at the ceiling. He should have been asleep, it being daylight and all, but this time, like so many others, he just couldn't manage it. The room he lay in was modest in possessions, if not in decoration. Aside from the four-poster bed and a mahogany chest of draws, there was nothing. The walls were painted a reddish-sunset pink to match the bed covers, but the curtains covering the only window were thick and black to keep out the sunlight. It had been Drusilla's room. Angelus had given it to her, along with tens of others, but this is the one she had preferred. 

Spike rolled over onto his side, resting his head on one arm as he clutched the other near to his chest. He was comfortable for a moment before having to shift again, this time to his other side with his legs bent so that his knees touched his stomach. Bare flesh against bare flesh. As it was daytime the curtains were doing their job, and the only lighting in the room came from two flickering candles on long candlesticks, one either side of the bed. He let out the smallest of sighs and moved to lie on his back again, eyes once more upon the ceiling.

The funny thing about Vampires was that they didn't really _need_ to sleep. It felt good and fit into the predatory hunt-kill-feed-rest regime, but they could usually survive for a while without it. They didn't worry about getting cranky, they _were_ Vampires after all. Spike turned again, lying on his stomach this time with his face pressed into one of the pillows. He might not need sleep but sometimes it brought a kind of peace with it that could never be equalled. A pause from thinking, debating and --God forbid-- brooding. It was almost what Spike imagined heaven would be like, if he wasn't too evil to go there. When she started thinking thoughts like that he usually got up and killed something. Except now he couldn't. And not just because it was daylight. 

Spike growled into the pillow and turned again so that he was once more on his side. He'd been sleeping in this room ever since she'd gone. Drusilla had forbid either of her lovers to sleep with her in it, so as a mockery of that now that she had left, it was the only place Spike rested. He told himself it was to insult her memory. To piss her off. But sometimes, wrapped up in darkness and sleep, he would smell her scent upon the sheets or feel her presence within the bedroom walls and that would force her into his dreams, his nightmares, his thoughts. She'd hurt him, and love him, and fuck him and he'd wake up angry, confused, cursing and full of lust. If he didn't know she was gone he'd say she was somehow making him think of her, casting a spell, or slipping into his arms while he slept, because that was the sort of thing she would do. To punish him for leaving her. But instead he knew that it was just his own mind, using the cruelty he usually revelled in when hurting others to taunt himself with images of his ex. His past. He should probably have moved to another room, but he didn't like to run away. He faced the dreams each time hoping to conquer them. If he could do that, maybe he could move on from _her_. Then again maybe he didn't change rooms because he liked the dreams -- just a little.

After those brief waking moments where all he thought of was her, another woman --_girl_-- would enter his mind like a deadly ray of brightness and obliterate the first. Perhaps he didn't love this second woman, perhaps he did, but he knew that _wanted_ her. To kill or fuck, he still wasn't sure, which was why he was playing the dutiful boyfriend for the moment. All he knew was that if another person haunted his sleep, could he really love the Slayer? The lust he felt while he was around he was almost unbearable, but she had taught him that was different from love. Because she wanted him too, that he was sure of, but she didn't love him.

Spike couldn't sleep now. It was way past noon and he'd been trying since dawn. And not surprisingly it was the Slayer that was keeping him awake. She was the caffeine to Dru's sleeping tablets. She'd cancelled their usual nightly patrol-date to go out with one of her friends and he was annoyed. He didn't want to be but he was. And that only meant that he probably loved her, which he didn't want to do either. Not because of his own issues, he'd gotten over those long ago, but because of hers. She didn't love him, so falling in love with her would only lead to pain. And not the fun kind. 

Her cancelling their date made him irrationally jealous. She'd not done it once that summer, but now he was afraid that perhaps she wasn't as hung up on Angelus as he'd thought, perhaps it was another guy instead. He was afraid? Afraid of loosing her? Surely not. But perhaps he should check on her just once tonight. Just to make sure. She'd hate him for being possessive, but it was the way demons were and she'd just have to deal with that. If she ever found out -- which he was planning on never happening. 

Spike rolled over onto his back again, but this time his eyes were comfortably closed. The cool night air had forced its way into the room somehow and was gliding over his nude form pleasantly. After hashing out in his head a plan for the night, Spike felt much more relaxed. And with his next moves decided he finally managed to drift off into a dreamless sleep.

(Author's Note: Sorry for the immence wait for the update. You guys almost didn't get another chapter for a few more weeks. But I managed to finish one. I'm afraid you might have to wait a little while for the next one, I have exams at the moment and of course they take priority. I hope this chapter wasn't too... lame. I've had half of it written for ages, and it just needed finishing. Thank you all so much for your reviews and kind words, I was a little worried that the harshness of the last chapter might scare you all off... But no! It didn't! And for that I am grateful. :-) Thanks. -- Oh! And Happy New Year.... Hee.)


	4. Guardless Angels

Guardless Angels

_Your life has been so hard  
It's been dried up angels that can't keep guard  
I'm trying to reach your hand  
But I'm on fire  
I never planned to fade... away_  
'Are You Sad?' by Our Lady Peace

Willow drank in the smell of coffee from her cup as she waited, fingers curled around the comfortingly warm enamel. She'd arranged to meet Buffy for a girl's night out weeks ago, and now was getting into the pre-fun ritual of coffee so that she didn't burn out too soon. Besides the fact that it smelt really, really nice.

As she waited for her friend Willow glanced around the Espresso Pump, and wondered if she was underdressed for the night ahead. She was expecting the time to consist of shopping, eating and talking, but perhaps Buffy had plans for dancing as well. Willow looked down at her mid-length skirt and T-shirt and decided she was poorly dressed for seductive, or even normal, showing off. She sighed. If she'd managed to find Buffy today she'd have spoken to her, but the Slayer seemed to have been avoiding her friends. It didn't look good. Willow felt anger growing inside of her and hurried to quell it. Tonight was about fun, not accusations. If Buffy showed up that was. 

"Hey Will." her friend breathed, with comedic timing as she slid into a chair opposite her friend. Willow noticed happily that Buffy was just dressed in jeans and a black tank-top, not her usual Bronzing gear. 

"Hey Buffy" Willow smiled, "You want a drink?"

"Nah.." Buffy leant in and smelt the top of Willow's cup before grinning, "The smells enough for me. I'll be up all night now."

"Yeah, well, you are the Slayer." Willow groused with fake-annoyance.

"Ah-ha!" Buffy's grin widened, "But I'm not slaying tonight. I'm shopping and laughing and lots of other fun stuff... And did you get your hair cut?" Buffy said the final sentence with her eyes squinted at her friend's hair.

"Yes...." Willow's smile was suddenly shy, she reached a hand up to touch the shorter hair, apart from Oz you're the first "Got it done a few weeks ago, one to notice, you like?"

"I like!" Buffy assured, "But now I have guilt because I didn't notice before."

"Because this is the first time you've seen me with it."

"Yeah."

"Don't worry Buffy..." Willow found herself being reassuring even if she wasn't sure she'd really forgiven yet, "You had lots on your mind... And...stuff..."

"I'm sorry Will, I'll make it up to you today.. at least partially." Buffy said, as if she hadn't heard her friend's forgiveness. Willow frowned with confusion, but Buffy didn't seem to notice. For someone who was supposedly depressed Buffy seemed very chipper.

"So.... what's the plan Buffy?"

"Oh, I thought we'd wander around the mall then go from there."

"Sounds good."

Buffy smiled and relaxed back into her seat to wait for her friend to finish her drink. The excessive happiness was easy to put on, it wasn't that she wasn't looking forward to the night ahead, just not as much as she made out. She was in fact a little edgy, it was the first time since that night _that_ she wasn't going to see Spike, at all. It wasn't that she was dependant, but it just felt strange. It was probably the patrolling she was missing, and the saving of innocent lives, but she'd forced herself to this one. She needed friends as well.

***

Spike paced from left to right just outside the doorway. He was wearing his trademark duster and black jeans, but instead of the black-red shirt combo he'd pulled on a single blue one. He knew he was making unneeded effort, especially seeing as he wasn't planning on being seen, but if worst came to worse he could show up all gorgeous and tempt _his_ woman back.

"No...No.... Not your woman." he corrected, talking to himself as he waited for the sun to disappear, "Feminism an' all that. Plus, Slayer." he sighed.

He knew Buffy would like the shirt, she kept telling him to get something blue to match his eyes, usually he'd just make fun of her, but if it would make her happy... Ugh. He wasn't whipped. They weren't in love. He just wanted a shag.

"Yeah Spike, just keep telling yourself that..." he glanced out at the dark sky, though he knew he didn't need to. Once the sun was gone he just felt it, a hundred years of waiting for darkness means you damn-well know when it comes. He wasn't sure why he was suddenly so desperate to see her. Withdrawal? It was like one of those stupid epigraphs; 'you don't know what you've got till its gone' or something. It was only one night, and she was probably just out with her mates. The thought of having something to do that night had calmed him earlier, but now it filled him with... nervousness? She wouldn't be with another man. She wouldn't. Why was he still standing here?

Spike darted out into the night, not bothering to close the door to the mansion. No-one but him went there anymore. He was a masochist, and the place held bad memories. But other demons had heard that something had massacred Angelus and his entourage without pause for breath, so they were afraid to go there now. If only they'd known it was just a bunch of humans and a Slayer. It was funny, but it was also frightening. If a human could kill Angelus, were demons underestimating them? Nah. It was just one human out of billions. 

As soon as Spike was closer to the centre of Sunnydale he stretched out his senses and tried to feel where the Slayer was. It was hard work, but he knew he'd find her eventually. Or she'd find him, that was how it usually worked. 

It didn't take long before he was standing outside the Sunnydale mall, watching a pair of girls walk in through the revolving doors. He breathed an internal sigh of relief a her female companionship, but instead of giving up and going back to his bed, or even out Vampire hunting to win points with Buffy, he decided to follow them inside. They could be meeting someone. 

Just as Spike was about to cross the street and skulk in some much closer shadows Buffy's head snapped around and she looked in his direction. He froze. Cars drove past, their wheels making gritty noises on the tarmac. A couple walked by, engrossed in each other. Spike's eyes were on Buffy as she stared across at his patch of shadows. Her friend, Willow, said something to her and Buffy turned back and without a second glance walked into the mall. 

Spike let out an unneeded breath and stood where he was for a while longer, trying to work out why, seeing as he was so intent on hiding, he was suddenly disappointed that the Slayer hadn't spotted him. 

***

The woman strolled through the crowds at a leisurely pace. She didn't really have a destination so she wasn't in a hurry like some of the people. She took in the surroundings of the mall, bright and colourful with each shop promising low prices, and smiled. It'd been too long since she'd been back here. Being trapped can do that to you. But back she was, and it wouldn't hurt to make the most of it, as long as she didn't stall too much. 

Aside from the mumbled chatter of the shoppers, music seemed to blare out from ever doorway. Music of the time, or music to fit the product. The air smelt partly of coffee from the café at her side, and partly of fresh pretzels, cookies, and disinfectant. People milled around her, some in groups, others in pairs, there didn't seem to be very many individuals. As she passed a clothes shop, the woman noted the abundance of teenagers walking around inside, buying clothes -- or not buying them, but getting them either way. She'd been told the person she was searching for would be young, but she doubted a champion would have time to clothes shop. 

The woman leant on one of the railings the separated the upper level of the mall from the lower and looked into the shop. She should have just walked past and kept looking, but there was something about it that bothered her. She was supposed to sense this Warrior when she felt them close, was this that feeling? It was a warmth spreading over her arms and down towards her hands. But with so many people, how could she be sure who was the right one? Perhaps if she went in and brushed shoulders with each then she'd know.

She let go of the railing and walked purposefully towards the shop. It was a pity that she hadn't been cast back onto the mortal coil with some money. Business and pleasure shouldn't mix, but money could buy you pretty things.

***

"Slut, slut, whore, slut, daddy's-little-girl, you don't have to ask if I'm wearing any underwear, you can tell 'cause my dress is _that_ short!"

Buffly flipped through the dresses on the rack, rating each one and making snarky comments. Willow stood off to the side, watching the clothing fly past and secretly envying girls that could actually wear it. They'd only been in the mall for a few minutes, but Buffy was looking a little less happy and a little more bitchy. Willow wasn't sure what had caused the change in mood, but at least clothes shopping gave her a chance to vent. 

"Nothing you like?" the redhead inquired tentatively.

"Nope. Nothing I could wear without my mom grounding me, or men coming up to me on the street and offering money for--"

"Do you want to try somewhere else?"

"I guess -- Oh, Will, do you want something here?"

"Heh." Willow grinned, "Not really my kind of clothes."

"I bet Oz'd flip though." Buffy smiled, drawing her good mood back on. Her smile grew as she saw her friend blush, "Is there something you're not telling me? Will?"

Willow shook her head and hurried out of the shop, Buffy followed, the smile never leaving her face. As she was just walking out of the clothes-hungry crowd Buffy bumped into someone. Or rather a woman wearing white seemed to smack into Buffy's shoulder, jerking her back for a moment.

"Hey!" Buffy protested, rubbing her shoulder. The woman didn't seem to hear, instead she stumbled around the store, walking into almost every other person she met. Buffy frowned and turned back to Willow, who she was glad to see hadn't been so embarrassed that she'd run home.

"Your arm okay Buffy?"

"Yeah. Shopping; brutal." Buffy dropped her hand from the aching shoulder and caught up with her friend, "So, why the quick exit? Have you and Oz been naughty?" she teased.

"No!" Willow blushed until she thought her face would match her hair, "Nothing like that."

"Then why the freak-out?"

"I just don't... wear clothes like that Buffy."

"Why not?" Buffy was sure that the clothes weren't the reason Willow had fled. Especially at the mention of her boyfriend's name. She guessed it was probably her fault for not being there for her friend. If she'd gone out with her more she'd probably know all then ins and outs of the Willow-Oz relationship. But then again Willow hadn't really been there for Buffy either. 

Buffy sighed, suddenly feeling tired. She almost had to force the wavering smile back onto her face as she waited for Willow's answer. 

"They just don't... suit me."

"That's only because you don't wear them."

"Hey! You said they were all slutty! You want me to dress like a slut?"

"No..." Buffy grinned, and this time it was real, "... I just want you to know you can dress like a slut if you want to."

"Huh, well, pretty much not wanting to." Willow reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind one ear, nervous, ".... When was the last time you spoke to Xander?"

Buffy didn't even attempt to stop the smile falling this time. She turned and started a slow walk, head turned slightly as if she was window-shopping. Willow walked with her, and the silence stretched out between them. It wasn't as if Willow could just not mention Xander, girls-night-out or not if everything had been okay between the three then Xander would be walking with them as well.

"A few weeks..." Buffy finally answered vaguely.

"Still mad at him?"

"Isn't he still mad at me?"

"No Buffy! No! Not really... He just cares, and shows that by saying stupid stuff. He didn't mean to upset you or anything."

"I know -- I think -- but Will, as much as I love you, Xander has to fight this one by himself. If he wants to make up with me then he needs to make the effort. Sorry."

Willow wanted to scream. But she didn't -- years of self-control. Did it not even occur to Buffy that _she_ could make the effort to 'bridge the gap' instead of Xander. She'd said some pretty bad things to him as well. Willow didn't really blame either of her friends, but they were both so stubborn. And it was hard to be the go-between sometimes. 

"What does Spike think?"

"Ugh. I don't think Spike even knows -- and if he did he wouldn't care. Outside me and himself, I'm not sure he cares about anyone else."

"I suppose its good that he cares about you." Willow said glumly, tapping into Buffy's mood.

"Mmm." Buffy mumbled noncommittally. The two friends walked in silence again for a few minutes before Buffy felt, rather than saw, Willow jump beside her. Quietly she found herself drawn to the side as Willow whispered, her eyes on a spot behind the Slayer.

"Speaking of caring. And boyfriends. And the devil in general. Did you know Spike was here?"

"Yeah." Buffy turned to lean against a shop wall and pretended to be watching the crowd, "Where abouts?"

"I-I thought you said you knew he was here?"

"I had a.... feeling that he might be. Where is he?"

"Over there." Willow nodded, fixing her eyes on Buffy so that it looked less obvious. The Slayer glanced to her side for a second, but that was all she needed. Half-hidden behind a group of teenagers and standing part-way inside a shop was the Vampire. She thought of ignoring him for a moment, then brushed that idea aside. Raising a hand Buffy waved him over, sure that he'd catch the motion.

"What are you doing?" Willow asked, her voice panicked.

"I want to see what he's got to say for himself. If I just leave him be he'll follow us all night." Buffy kept one eye on Willow as she spoke, and the other on the approaching Spike. She hadn't expected him to look guilty and he didn't. The only thing that won him points was that he didn't look pleased with himself either.

"Step back Will..." Buffy murmured, and Willow complied without question. 

When Spike was just a few feet away Buffy sprang forward from the wall and grabbed his arm, she swung him around and pinned a hand to his neck, pressing him up against the spot she'd just been occupying against the shop front. Willow watched wide-eyed. After the initial shock Spike just looked down at her, he didn't even try to struggle. A first. More points.

"I usually stake Vamps that follow me." she threatened lightly, prodding a finger of her spare hand into his chest as she spoke as if it was a weapon. He reached up slowly and took her poking hand in his, raising it too his lips and giving the finger a light kiss.

"Sorry." he apologies, eyes wide and very blue.

"Ugh.." she jerked her hand out of his with disgust, but let go of the rest of him anyway, "Don't get cute."

"Too--" he began.

"--late?" she finished, as if this was a well-worn conversation.

"Yeah."

"Why were you following us?" she asked, not backing down.

"I was following you, pet--" he shot a glance at Willow, "--No offence--" before taking a step closer to Buffy, "I was missing you."

"Uh huh. As if I believe that."

"Its the truth." Spike protested, before changing the subject, "How was school?" he asked the question with tenderness injected into his voice. As if he really cared. It threw her from her tangent, which was what he'd hoped.

"It was... all right.." she admitted, taking a subconscious step closer to him until they were within touching distance. 

"Just all right?"

"It was school." she shrugged, "I doesn't get much better than that."

He smiled, and she found herself playing with some of the buttons on his shirt. He watched her, unmoving, until her hands strayed, flattening out against his chest and fingers splaying to touch as much as possible. Then he found his arms moving around her waist and drawing her closer. She placed a light kiss against the hollow in his neck before looking up.

"Okay! You're forgiven!" she sighed, amusement _just_ outweighing annoyance.

"Good." he smirked and his hands started to roam lower than her waist. She pulled out of his grip.

"Not _that_ forgiven."

He pouted and she sighed. Willow watched, half horrified and half feeling neglected. She realised that she'd never really seen Buffy and Spike together like this before, and it was unsettling. He looked perfectly normal now, but she knew from experience that he was a killer. Only seeing them together now really reminded her of the situation. He was a killer, and yet Buffy was still letting him live... Because he'd helped. Spike had helped. Maybe he was better, like Buffy said. Maybe. She shouldn't be so narrow-minded. Her boyfriend was a Werewolf after-all. Then again, just because she shouldn't be that narrow minded didn't mean she wasn't. Willow bit her lower lip, was she turning into Xander?

"How much do I have to do to be _that_ forgiven?" Spike asked. Buffy seemed to contemplate her answer for a moment, though really it was on the tip of her tongue.

"Take me to the Bronze tomorrow night."

"Is that all?" Spike asked with surprise, "We do that every night."

"Not hunting this time. Take me out on a date. You know, dance with me, buy me a small--no, big-- present, flirt and then walk me home. A date."

"A date." Spike repeated, sounding sceptical. 

"Yep."

"...Okay" Spike agreed after a pause, as if waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"Good!" Buffy beamed, suddenly cheerful. Honest-to-God happy. It wouldn't last, but it felt nice. She reached up with both hands and fixed her fingers around his collar. She pulled him down, his lips down onto hers, and whispered against them barely touching, "I like the blue." before darting her tongue out against his mouth. He growled, but it was playful, and his arms were back around her. They kissed, graphically enough for Willow to look away so that she didn't look like some kind of pervert. When they stopped Buffy pushed Spike away again, but this time not as hard.

"Go. Home. This is my night out with Willow."

"Of course." He slid away, no longer feeling reluctant about leaving her. A date? It was almost laughable. No, it was laughable. And he'd probably be laughing quite a lot later. When there weren't so many people around to stare. Wait, he was evil. He didn't care if people stared or not. Usually liked to give them something to look at. 

Buffy watched Spike walking away, her eyes narrowing when he began to laugh. But she wasn't really angry, or even embarrassed. He looked good when he laughed, really laughed, face open and full of emotion. Then again he looked good most of the time. Spike's looks weren't the thing under debate where their relationship was concerned. Turning back to Willow, Buffy found the smile unmoving on her face still. 

"Lets go back to that shop!" she suggested, excited.

"That... slutty shop?"

"I saw something that'll make Spike..." she paused, imagining the reaction, "...want to cover me up all night. It'll annoy him _so_ much!"

"Okay Buffy..." Willow began grinning despite herself as she found her hand being grabbed and her legs straining to keep up with an enthusiastic Slayer. Then a thought struck her. One of those ones that tries to steal physical and mental breath and stop you in your tracks if you're not being super-covert. Buffy was happy. At this moment, Buffy was happy. She'd been happy ever since Spike had appeared really. And that didn't make sense at all. All summer they -- her, Xander, Giles -- had thought that most of reason Buffy was so depressed was because of Spike. He was evil and perverted and... evil. It was what had made Xander so angry, and been the cause of many arguments before they'd just stopped speaking at all. But Buffy had been happy a few moments ago, happier than she ever seemed with any of her friends. They'd been so busy trying to place the blame on someone, trying to save Buffy, that they hadn't paid attention. If it wasn't Spike that was upsetting her, then what was it? Could it be them?

(Mini Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews!)


	5. Always

This is an edited chapter. The NC-17 version of this chapter can be found here: http://www.geocities.com/summersomnambulist/fiction/jlp5.html please come back and review if you enjoy it. 

Always

_Yeah, I've been watching me fall for it seems like years   
Watching me grow small, I watch me disappear   
Slipping out my ordinary world, out my ordinary eyes   
Yeah, slipping out the ordinary me into someone else's life   
Into someone else's life ..._  
'Watching Me Fall' by The Cure  


"Your neck's red.." he said absently, placing a kiss upon the affected area.

"Oh. Is it? The water was a little too hot." she lied easily. He accepted her explanation. She thought he was going to go to sleep then, and she let out a relieved sigh. But instead he asked another question.

"Do you love me, Buffy?"

"Of course I love you." she answered automatically.

"Then why do you let _him_ touch you?" his voice was suddenly accusatory, none of the usual post-coital purring was there.

"What?" Buffy blinked, she just wanted to go to sleep, her vision blurring darkly around the edges, she could feel the bed sucking her in, but his anger made her nervous. Perhaps sleeping beside him wasn't such a good idea, "I don't know what you're talking about Angel."

"Yes you do." he hissed. His body was still pressed up against hers, but it was stiffer as if he was getting ready to fight with her. Fist fight. People who loved you didn't hit you _--people who loved you didn't hurt you--_ she must be wrong. He was just upset. Buffy leant over to place a kiss on his lips but he jerked his head away. She sighed.

"Angel, I've never let him--" Flashes came suddenly to her, kisses, touches, hands, limbs, an arm around her shoulder, a tongue brushing hers. All Spike. All real. She gasped, "Oh God."

"You said 'always', and 'forever'." Angel suddenly seemed strangely far away, his voice strangely calm, "Did that mean nothing to you? Was it a lie?"

"No Angel," Buffy protested, "I love _you_."

"He's a monster." Angel stated as if he hadn't heard her words, "Is that what you want, a monster?" his voice was growing colder, "He can never love you, monsters can't love. I mean, look at me."

Buffy reached a hand out and touched Angel's bare chest. She ran her fingers along the well-defined muscles with a pleading look in her eyes. It said she'd do anything to make him happy again. To make him stop speaking. To make him stop telling the... truth?

This time he didn't jerk away from her touch, instead he moved towards it until he was crowding her. She pressed her other hand against his chest but he grabbed both her wrists. She stared at him _--he loved her--_ for a split second longer than she should have and suddenly he was on top of her. Straddling her waist. The thin sheet the only thing between their naked bodies. He was like a dead-weight over her _--funny--_, stifling and frightening.

"But maybe that's what you want." He growled, face suddenly growing ridges, eyes turning gold and canines elongating, "Do you want to be touched by a monster?" he pushed her arms down into the bed, his body weighing her down. Terror ripped through her as a thousand possible scenarios of what was about to happen tore through her mind.

"Angel! I love you!" She called, he paused.

"Always?" his tone was calm.

"Yes. Always."

"Good." he said, then he dipped his head down, fangs extended. She stared as his mouth moved past hers and down to the curve of her throat. She felt a sharp sting in her neck then the world slowly dissolved to black around her even as she tried to stay awake.

*** 

Buffy stepped through the doors of the Bronze. Despite the fact that this was supposed to be a proper date, with all the trimmings, somehow she still seemed to have managed her way to the venue alone. But that was better than it seemed. Catering to a romantic fantasy, she'd love to see his jaw drop as he saw her across a crowded room. And with what she was wearing his jaw had better drop. 

She slid between tables, crammed so close together that she found herself brushing up against people's backs. Most ignored her, but a few boys _--boys, not men--_ leered a little as she passed. She simply offered them a sweet smile, if they did more than look she was easily capable of setting them strait. Besides, it was nice to be appreciated sometimes. 

She slid onto a stool at an empty table. The only empty table in fact, which with the crowds so large was a blessing. They'd be hard pressed to keep it all night, but she was sure Spike could manage it. He had no problem with being rude. And she had no problem with letting him be rude. Which should have bothered her more than it did. Buffy slid her hands over the polished tabletop and let the gentle thrum of music, barely heard over the talking, into her head. She thought about getting a drink, but decided against it. Make-up smudged. Arching one hand up she began to tap impatiently upon the table, her fingernails making the noise louder. She was angry rather than worried. She knew that Spike wouldn't stand her up. What else did he have to do?

*** 

"Come on, hurry it up, I've got somewhere to be." Spike growled, somewhat annoyed that a watch really didn't go with his outfit. He didn't want to think about what the Slayer would do if he was late. He glanced at each of the people he was doing business with without really seeing them. His attention was mainly focused on the box one of them held.

"Got a date with your girl?" one of them asked. He was standing in the shadows in that way that many new Vampires did. Not with stealthy cunning, but trying to appear mysterious and frightening. It seemed to take modern Vamps a few years to realise that not everything was like it was in the movies. 

"Shut-up Wayne." the closest Vampire said, in an exasperated tone the indicated he had to say it often. He was holding a wad of bills and counting them patiently. When he stopped to reprimand 'Wayne' he sighed and began counting from the beginning once more. Spike growled again, a low rumbling noise coming more from his chest than his throat.

"Its all there. I keep my word."

"Huh." the Vampire snorted, flipping through the money again.

"Ian's not very trusting." Wayne offered insightfully, as if he was feeling left out. For a moment he was like the man he must have been in life, a brown-nosing weasel. Perhaps the man had thought inviting a demon into his body would change that. No improvements so far.

"You'll have to forgive us..." the last Vampire said, his voice soft and non-threatening. Probably indicating that he was the most powerful of the three. Quiet sincerity was usually more frightening with evil things than muscles and threats. It meant they knew something; that they were going to win. The Vampire was standing in between the other two enough to show he was being protected by them, perhaps his power was not physical. The protection indicated that he was probably their Sire, "...For being careful, Spike, word has it you like to terminate some of our kind now."

"Gossip." Spike lied.

"I don't think so." the Vampire raised his shoulders in a shrug, "But as long as you don't come after me and mine, I'll let it slide."

"Lucky for me."

"Yes." the Vampire agreed, as if he hadn't sensed the sarcasm. 

"Its all there, master." the second Vampire, Ian, confirmed. Spike grimaced, perhaps they all had a case of Bela Lugosi-lust. Wayne stepped out the shadows with more flourish of his long coat than was needed and handed the box in his hands over to his 'master'. It was cardboard and on the outside looked like nothing special. But Spike could smell its insides, and he knew he wasn't getting duped. He reached out his hands expectantly, but the 'master' pulled the box back with a cutting laugh.

"Look--" Spike said, his anger beyond growling now. 

"Please, please, Spike." the Vampire said placatingly, raising a free hand and pressing down the air beneath it as if trying to push down the anger dancing around the ally, "...I just want to ask you a question first."

"I came here 'cause my usual supplier is out of town and recommended you, but if you're not going to give me what I came for then..." he left the threat hanging.

"Calm down." the Vampire said, as if he was talking to a petulant child, "One answer to one question is all I ask. Then you'll get your goods."

"Ask your question. Doesn't mean I'm going to answer."

"Fair enough." 

Spike thought of crossing his arms, or striking some other threatening pose, but he didn't really need to. It seemed now as if he'd killed more Vampires from patrolling with the Slayer than he had humans with Drusilla. That wasn't true, of course, but sometimes it felt that way. He wasn't going to give this Vampire the satisfaction of seeing him feeling threatened.

"Is she a good fuck?"

Spike dived forward, throwing the two bodyguard Vampires away as soon as they touched him. He didn't even watch where they landed. Unconsciously his human mask slithered away, bearing his demon face to the world. He grabbed the no-longer protected Vampire around the neck, squeezing until bruises visibly began to appear on the flawless skin. The Vamp's widened, blood vessels bursting along the whites. After a moment he seemed to compose himself, and grabbing onto Spike's arms he lifted himself up to kick vulnerable stomach. Spike let go and stepped back.

"Defending your human's honour seems a little futile Spike. I'm assuming you have fucked her. Pretty little thing, I'm tempted to give her a try myself..." he raised a hand to stop the again advancing Vampire, "...I only said tempted. I'm not human bait. I asked the question as a ...friendly... warning. There are plenty of people who'd like to do a Slayer, and you if you're guarding her."

"Slayer can look after herself."

"That, I don't doubt."

"Why are you so concerned about her, or me even?"

"No-one likes to loose a customer." the Vampire deadpanned for a second before letting out a loud barking laugh. Once his face had smoothed out once more, his eyes becoming passionless, he continued, "You disgrace your former master, your Sire, your mate, you befoul the blood of Aurelius that flows in your veins. I warn you of the danger facing you, and your whore, because you could have changed your mind. Joined the winning side. But I see you will not." in a sudden movement he picked up the long forgotten box and threw it towards Spike, who caught it deftly, "Take your blood! It is yours for now. But one day I will be draining it from your veins."

"You fanatical types love the sound of your own voice, don't you?" Spike tucked the box under one arm and turned, confident that the blatant lunatic behind him wouldn't attack. 

"If she's not a good fuck, a really good fuck, then she's not worth it, Spike! She's not worth it!" the Vampire's words echoed along the walls after Spike, but he ignored them. Storming through the back-alleys and abandoned streets of Sunnydale until he lost his rage. Or at least pulled a leash around its neck. He collapsed against a wall. Panting for something other than oxygen, he tore the box open and pulled out a sack of blood. He sunk his canines into the bag and dragged with his mouth against the plastic until semi-warm blood filled his mouth, spilling out of the corners and trailing down his cheeks, and neck, to soak into his collar. 

*** 

"Would you like to dance?"

Buffy's eyes glided up from the table, and over the body of the person who was inquiring. The faint hope that Spike might have been using a funny voice -- funni_er_ voice-- was flattened as soon as she caught a glimpse of the loose-fitting trousers and untucked flowing shirt covering a tall but slim figure. Was she that much of a muscles girl? Unabashedly checking out his body before his face, her eyes finally reached that destination. Untidy blond hair flopped over his head in a way that could be described as cute, true-brown eyes that matched his shirt stared at her pleadingly. And she felt nothing. No secret twinge at the face of a pretty man, directed at her. Was she that taken with Spike? Nah. 

"Alex..." Buffy smiled, her lips curling just slightly at the corners as one finger traced patterns on the table. 

"You remember me." he sounded delighted. It was almost too cruel to play with him. Almost.

"Of course." Buffy purred, turning around on the stool to give Alex the full benefit of her dress. If Spike wasn't coming to admire it, at least someone could. Perhaps something of her anger showed in her face because for a moment the boy looked unsure.

"I thought you'd have forgotten." he said, voice suddenly small and his eyes impossibly wide. She wondered if it was an act, or if he really was so insecure, "You did last time."

"I'm sorry..." Buffy pouted, shoving her lower lip out, and slid from the stool. There was a good difference in their heights so Buffy could look up at him through her eyelashes, "Let me make it up to you with a dance."

"That would work." Alex said, smiling again.

Buffy led him out onto the dance floor, hips swaying provocatively. Why dress like you were a hooker if you couldn't move like one? When she'd cleared a space in the centre of the masses she turned around and moved into the circle of his arms. He placed both just above her waist, leaving her to lean into his chest. It was comfortable, but she felt no spark. Nothing. It was like dancing with a friend or a relative, nice to be close to someone, to feel the gentle beat of their heart against her cheat -- assuming they had a heart beat -- and their breath going in and out. But none of it felt sexual. Perhaps Angel had broken her after-all, maybe hurting her in her dreams was his way of hardening her in reality. It was a disturbing thought, but not a frightening one. How could you be frightened if you'd been trained not to feel? Sometimes being pretentious was comforting.

*** 

Spike pushed aside a group of intoxicated teenagers as he stepped into the Bronze. The light was a goldeny-brown and reflected off the pale skin of many of the people in a flattering way. He reached a hand up and ran it over his hair, making sure every curl was tamed into place. Slipping between the people was easy, but he couldn't avoid brushing against a few. They were like one big herd, moving and pressing against each other. He scanned the crowd at the bar quickly, though he did not expect to find her there. He then dragged his gaze over the tables, all full with people. She wasn't there either. As he stepped further into the club to look up at the balcony, his eyes caught the dance floor. It alone was decorated with a harlequin of coloured light that moved about almost as quickly as the people. In the centre a almost blindingly bright light shone down onto the floor, as if it was intended for the nondescript band, but had slipped down to illuminate something far more interesting. He couldn't blame it.

In the centre of that circle of light she was dancing. Her skin looks a tone lighter under the glare, but even that could no steel its tanned quality. It was a mystery to him how she managed to keep it so when she spent so much time out in the dark. She was holding her arms above her head and her body was swaying like that of a snake, charming its prey. Hips moving in synch with the distant beat of the music. The material clung to her like the clichéd second skin. It was blood red. Not the darker brown-red of dried blood, or the purple-red of television blood, true blood red. It sat just under her arms and was strapless, exposing both shoulders. Then it clung to her body until mid-thigh level. Spike felt twin desires of lust and protectiveness swell in his undead chest. He wanted to cover her up and fuck her all at the same time.

He shook his head, removing the clouded thoughts and wants. He didn't need to stand there and stare at her anymore. She was his. He could touch her, taste her, and she would let him. He began to feel very aware of the blood he'd just drunk, flowing around his body. Setting a smirk onto his face he took one confident stride forwards onto the dance floor. Then he saw _him_. 

A boy, probably about Buffy's age, wrapped an arm around her middle. His hand landed on her hip and stayed there. She leant into his shoulder, and that tiny movement invoked a barely-noticed growl from Spike. His eyes were wide as for a split-second he just stared, motionless. Split-seconds don't last long. A second growl, louder and longer than the first roared through his chest, causing a few couples dancing near him to move away. Not all people in Sunnydale were stupid. He marched forward, not noticing as he knocked one pair over, or gave a violent shove to someone's back. His eyes were only fixed on one spot. One person. 

Buffy heard the growl a second before she turned to see him. A smile grew and then faded from her face within a moment. She'd wanted him jealous, but now he looked angry enough to kill. His eyes weren't trained on her though, they were boring into Alex. Either the boy was ignoring, or he hadn't noticed because spotting her inactivity suddenly Alex turned towards her. Maybe he was going to ask what was wrong, but the words never got a chance to leave his mouth. 

Spike ripped the couple apart without even touching Buffy. Irrationally his rage wasn't focused on her. He glared into the face of the boy he'd pulled from her, into fear-filled brown eyes, and he growled again. He felt his human mask twitching to slip off, and his demon face crawling to the surface. He was paused by a strong grip on his left arm, the hand of which held a fistful of the boy's shirt. 

"Spike..." a soft voice, coaxed. He ignored it, "Spike...." the voice said more urgently, the grip on his arm tightening. With painful slowness he forced back the anger, forced back the demon, pulled the human visage back around himself tightly like a winter coat. He turned his head to look at Buffy. She smiled softly as she got his attention, her hands immediately loosening. 

"Let the boy go." she said calmly, her hand beginning to stroke his arm instead as if trying to soothe him. Perhaps if she had said something else he would have forgotten all about his hostage, but her words just drew his attention back to the boy. He spoke slowly, but made every word to sound like a threat,

"Don't. Touch. Her. Ever. Again." then he uncurled his fingers and left the boy to stumble backwards into a nervous crowd of onlookers. Spike stared after him for a brief moment before turning to Buffy, drinking in the sight of her once again. She was frowning at him, but he didn't care. Her lip was pushed out in an adorable pout, her hair loose and framing her face in golden layers. He grabbed her arm and pulled her close, though she would have come willingly. She stared up at him as he pressed one hand into her back, their bodies together. He moved his head down the few inches and claimed her mouth with a kiss. His lips pressed against hers as if he was trying to devour her whole, tongue thrusting into her mouth as his spare hand came up to the back of her head to pull her closer. There was no moment of hesitation from her, instead she looped her arms around his neck and ran her hands through his perfect hair, kissing back. 

When the kiss was over they found the world around them back to normal. Most people were giving them a wide berth, but there was dancing again. They stared at each other for a long minute, arms still around each other, before Spike spoke.

"You can't see him again either."

"You can't tell me who I can and can't see." Buffy protested, the happy afterglow from the kiss fading fast and leaving her frowning once more.

"Even if you're going to use them to make me angry?"

"Okay." she sighed, pulling her arms away from him. "It was wrong of me to bait you like that. I'm sorry. But it was harmless. I'm with you, if I wanted to be with someone else then I would be."

"I thought you _did _want to be with someone else."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing...." Spike said, not because he wanted to avoid an argument, but because bringing up the great poof never really solved anything, "I overreacted. But just the thought of..." he clenched his fist then let it go and sighed, "Forget it."

"I will." she comforted, reaching out to place a hand on his chest. He blinked, as if startled, then looked down slowly at her hand, which was now roaming about as if it had a life of its own. She took in the figure hugging black t-shirt with lustful appreciation, but the overlying open blue shirt was the one that snatched her attention. It begged to be removed. Tentatively she ran her hand under it and along Spike's side, to his back. He continued to watch her, speechless, and almost panicked. In another situation that look on his face could have been funny, now it was endearing. Buffy pressed the full length of her body up against his, legs brushing legs, stomach to stomach and chest to chest. As he was a little taller she tilted her head and snuggled it under his chin. She worked his back with her fingertips, sliding her other hand around him so that both could play across the t-shirt covered flesh. 

"Uh, luv.." he didn't want to object, but he felt the words rising on his lips. Sooner or later her teasing would turn him insane.

"Shh." she insisted, before requesting, "Dance with me."

As if he was frightened of hurting her, he slowly wrapped his arms around her. One hand fell at the small of her back, the other where the dress met skin at her shoulders. He rubbed the bare skin with a thumb, but didn't try anything more sexual. Her pressed against him was enough. And clearly she could tell that.

"Happy to see me?" she asked, a teasing tone in her voice.

"Always." he said, barely avoiding the roll of his eyes, "You're never so bloody happy to see me though." he stated.

"Maybe I missed you..." she suggested, pinching his back once to see the expression on his face. He acted as if he hadn't felt it.

"Yeah. Maybe. Did you have a good time with your friend yesterday?"

"Her name is Willow, and yes. But when did you start caring whether I had a good time or not?"

"I care." Spike said, his voice not exactly arguing his case. His little show of violence seemed to have pushed them back a little. 

"Uh huh. Just stop talking and dance." Buffy ordered. Surprisingly Spike complied, perhaps something was wrong. He loved to argue. In fact despite the almost-fight he was being very well behaved. 

They swayed to the music for a while, it was a slow-dance that neither of them favoured much. All around them couples were snuggling up to one another, looking starry eyed. It was nauseating. After a long moment of silence Spike decided to speak again.

"What happens next?" his question elicited a frown from Buffy and she pressed up against him a little firmer.

"Funny..." she said, voice conversationally-teasing, "You don't _seem_ eager to leave."

"Depends what on what we were leaving to do..." He pressed back, letting her know what she was getting into if she wanted to tread this path. She gasped and he smiled, "Besides, you don't seem so keen yourself."

Buffy groaned, not with pleasure but with well-natured disgust. She dug her nails into his back in retaliation, and where the flesh met material, bit his neck covertly, offering a subtle lick to the skin afterward. His grip on her tightened, a small sigh coming from between parted lips. 

"You like my dress?" she asked against his chest, digging her nails in a little more.

"Yes." he breathed, the hand on the small of her back slipping down to her buttocks and kneading the soft flesh there. She froze in his arms.

"We should probably stop." Buffy said. All Spike heard was that he'd won. She'd given in first.

"Mmm..." he said, seeming to agree, or disagree, or simply enjoy. The sound wasn't very clear. They'd stopped dancing, if they'd ever really started, and were now just standing, holding each other, on the dance floor. Then he said, "Nah. Give the kiddies something to stare at."

"First you're all possessive, now you want to put on a live-show." Buffy complained, finally pulling away from him, her courage not proving to be boundless. She clasped her hands together as if they were likely to jump back onto him if she wasn't careful. Which was probably true. He watched her with carefully tamed need. He was used to her tempting then pulling back. It was only when he was in the moment that he forgot what she was like. With much self-control Buffy held a hand out and took one of Spike's. She led him, silently, away from the music and the throbbing masses to the tables filled with people who 'gladly' moved aside to give Buffy and Spike some privacy. She slid onto one stool, him onto another.

"You were late." she accused.

"Made an entrance though, didn't I?"

"Hmm. Didn't think you'd be so quick to jealousy Spikey."

"I am a demon." he explained, reaching out to a plate of fries that was left behind by the 'eager' group before them. Buffy wrinkled her nose but didn't comment, what was the point? "And anyway..." he continued, "... You remember me an' Dru."

"Yes." admitted Buffy, "But could you try and not bring her up every five seconds?"

"Like you with your Angel?" he asked, shrugging.

"What? I never talk about Angel. Ever. With you or anyone else. You're the one who keeps bring him up. Is someone insecure?"

"You don't talk, but you think about him, don't you?" Spike asked, placing another chip into his mouth and cautiously avoiding her eyes. 

"No." Buffy said with conviction. Perhaps if he had been less jealous and more interested in something other than the contents of her underwear then she'd tell him about the haunting dreams. Nightmares. But he never was. And she knew if she even brought up the name Angel he'd turn off and get all defensive. 

"This isn't a very romantic date, is it?" Spike asked as if he honestly didn't know the answer.

"Violence, dry humping, followed up with a round of spite." 

"Okay, perhaps its a little romantic." Spike admitted. Buffy moved to slap his leg, which was jutted out and preventing people from passing. But Spike evaded her, and when she looked into his face she found him grinning.

"Oh give it a rest Spike, we all know you're evil. Are you going to get me a drink or not?" Buffy bitched, realise a split-second after she said the word 'evil' that she really didn't believe it. Was she becoming soft or was he?

"What do you want?" Spike asked, his face suddenly pleasantly charming as he stood up.

"Coke please." she said, smiling. He stepped away from the table and up to the bar. She crossed her hands on her lap, perfectly happy to wait. But almost after a full second had passed she found her eyes drawn to the crowds.

She spotted the Vampire almost straight away. He was cute enough, in that 'I-haven't-grown-into-my-limbs' kinda way. Now, of course, he never would. He was leaning a girl up against a wall and she was staring up at him with rapt attention. Something about bloodsuckers attracted people, even if they didn't know what they were. It was like her, with Spike, but she knew how to handle him. Knew what he was. This girl didn't know what she was dealing with. When the couple straightened and walked outside Buffy didn't pause to think, she just stood and followed them. She wouldn't let this girl be punished for the innocence of her desires. 

When she reached the alley out back, the Vampire was kissing the girl. In his twisted mind he probably thought it'd make the kill sweeter. She scanned her surroundings and picked a broken crate as the most likely place to get a weapon from. 

"Okay, let the girl go." she said in a hollow mimicry of her words to Spike a while before.

The Vampire turned around and hissed at her. Honest-to-God hissed, like something from a Vampire movie. It was rare that a Vamp actually hissed, or raised clawed hands against the sunlight. Usually they just went poof. The girl in his grip seemed to come around and stared at her suddenly-bumpy date. She screamed. In a quick flurry of movement she struggled and was let go, she ran away down the alley and disappeared. 

"Slayer, right?" the Vamp asked, his voice a little slurred, "I'd prefer to eat you any day."

"Geez, do you guys get Sired stupid or something?" Buffy asked, inching around the alley, anticipating an attack at any minute. When she reached the crate she broke off a giant-splinter in readiness. The Vampire rushed her and she dodged out of the way, watching him run into a wall with a satisfactory smack. Wadda-ya-know, Vamps can get drunk.

"Hey pointy," she jeered, "I'm over here."

He turned and glared at her, nose bloodied. This time, instead of charging his hand went to a pocket of his coat, rummaging for something. Buffy frowned,

"Take anything out of your pocket and you're dust." she threatened, silently adding that he was dust anyway. The Vampire just sneered and pulled his closed fist out of the pocket. Buffy didn't take any chances. She walked forward, backhanding the Vampire and jolting him sideways, and with her other hand she plunged the wood into his chest. It was surprisingly easy. 

"There goes Wayne." Spike observed, standing in the open doorway to the back of the Bronze. 

Buffy paused to compose herself, drag another lung-full of air into her system, push hair out of her face, before she turned around to look at Spike. He seemed to have been addressing no-one in particular, but his eyes were fixed on the spot the Vamp had just been in.

"You knew him?" Buffy asked, curious.

"He wasn't one of my mates if that's what you're worried about."

"Really not. He was about to kill a girl."

"S'what Vampires do, luv. No need to get defensive about staking him."

"I'm not."

"Right. Shall we go back inside then?" Spike asked, keen to change the subject.

"Does it really bother you that much? You see me stake Vamps nearly every night." Buffy pointed out, placing her hands on her hips in a posture that said she wasn't moving without an answer. 

"Doesn't bother me, luv. Inside?" he asked again, definitely not wanting to tell the Slayer how he knew the late Wayne. 

"What's the matter Spike, you've finally got me alone and now you want to head back into the crowd..."

"You want us to be alone luv..?" Spike asked, his posture changing straight away, a smirk growing on his face. He turned fully towards her and walked forward. Buffy observed that it was the third time he'd called her 'luv' in as many minutes. Perhaps he really was insecure. When he was standing in front of her she tilted her head up to look into his face. His pupils were wide and dilated, his eyes trained on hers. His lips were inches away. 

"...No..." she started to say, but his mouth cut her off. The world around her, and the distant protests died and all she could feel were his arms encircling her. Lips pressing together. Tongue and teeth playing against them. And suddenly the wall was at her back, offering support that she hadn't know she'd needed. She felt out of control and she didn't like it. 

"Spike..." she sounded almost panicked, "What are you doing?"

"Proving something." he answered, kissing the side of her face.

"What?" she asked, the tone in her voice escalating a little.

"That.." he was suddenly looking into her eyes, "You're mine." he brushed his lips against hers, "And I'm yours." he kissed her other cheek, "And that we want each other." He felt her stiffen in front of him and he sighed an unneeded breath, against her throat, "Just a little demonstration, luv." he promised, "That's all."

Buffy eyes flickered shut, giving him permission silently. She felt his hands, which had been resting platonically against her waist, start moving upwards. His thumbs rubbed along her ribs softly and then across her breasts. A restless warmth appeared lower in her body, faint but demanding. She pressed herself against his hands, and he obligingly quickened his pace minutely. His fingers arrived at where her nipples were puckering the material of her dress and ran around them teasingly, until they felt almost painfully tender. Then he pinched one and she gritted her teeth together. He knew he turned her on, there was no need for her to moan and announce it to the world. 

Spike watched the emotions pass over her face, her head tilting to the side and away from him. He leant forward and kissed her, to draw her back to him. It worked a little, instead of standing there and waiting she reached out and started to push under his shirt, hands seeking flesh to touch. He let her fumble for a moment before whispering against her ear,

"Open your eyes."

Slowly she did so and looked up into his face, as if she expected him to be mocking her. Faint embarrassment creasing her features, making them tense and draining any relaxation the last few minutes had brought. He simply smiled at her. A real smile, the kind he didn't reserve for just anyone. A smile that would have the demon community laughing. It was open. She hadn't realised how much he guarded his expression until she saw that smile. It was so... real... that everything else paled in comparison. Or perhaps she just felt that because the smile didn't just hold lust, but something else a lot more scary. Despite herself, she felt her own lips mirroring it. Perhaps he saw it, because suddenly his smile faltered and became self-deprecating instead of anything else that it had been before. 

"Do you want to stop _now_?" he asked, satisfied with her reaction, but unnerved by the emotion he'd briefly seen on her face. Why couldn't this just be about sex?

"No." she breathed, her breath hot against his face. He blinked at her for a second before fingers touched his stomach and began gliding up. He felt the tension in him that he'd barely realised he was carrying, tighten, then release. It was her turn to lean forward, she dragged her tongue along his lower lip slowly until he was compelled to pull in into his mouth. He kept one of his hands on her breasts, tracing her nipples lazily, as the other travelled downwards. Her eyes drifted shut again.

"Open your eyes?" he tried to tell her again, but it came out as more of a question. She complied, and for a long moment green eyes looked into his. Then, as suddenly as if someone had flicked a switch, she was looking past him. Over one shoulder to something that was going on behind them. The world that had been dead around them came back, the sounds of club music, drunken chatter and cars assaulting their ears. 

"Oh God." she gasped, and it wasn't an expression of pleasure. She struggled to get her hands out from under his shirt as he blinked at her, then she pushed him away. Far away. Physically and mentally. He turned to see what had upset her. 

A Vampire had its back to them and was pressing a girl up against the opposite wall. They almost looked as if they were mirroring Buffy and Spike's previous positions. Except the girl's head flopped uselessly to the side, eyes open in death rather than surprise. And the Vampire was doing something to her exposed neck. It would have been easier to say that the Vamp was drinking her blood, but instead he seemed to be holding a bag to the two puncture wounds and collecting the crimson liquid. He was rubbing around the cut to stimulate more blood to the surface. As if sensing their attention on him he glanced behind him and smiled. He actually smiled, a friendly smile as if they were old friends. And as if he hadn't just killed a girl.

"Hey Spike. It's Ian, remember?" he said, tone conversational, "...And you're the Slayer." he said, nodding to Buffy, "... Sorry, don't know your name."

"Ian." Spike nodded, aware that things were about to get very bad, very soon. 

Buffy knelt down and picked up her discarded stake that she'd used to dispatch Wayne with minutes before. She paid Spike no attention as he tried to capture it, instead walked toward Ian. The Vampire's smile faded and he spoke again.

"Hey... What's with the stake, Slayer? You kill me and Spike doesn't get his hit."

Buffy grabbed the Vampire's shoulder and pulled him away from the girl. The half-full bag of blood fell to the floor and spilt around their feet. Ian faced Buffy for a split-second, before he was dust. The dead girl's body slid down the wall and into her own blood. Buffy stared for a long moment, not sure what she felt. If she even felt again. Had Spike been distracting her so that his friend could kill this girl? How long had this been going on? Slowly she turned and looked at him.

"Look." Spike explaining, "I know this looks bad. But I don't know how that bloke knew me, or what he was doing with the bag of blood. Buffy, you have to believe me. There are plenty of demons in this town that would love you to stake me."

Buffy walked forward, his words making more sense as she thought about them. The anger that threatened to beat out of her chest at him was not starting to be directed toward the demon populous in general. Getting her to stake her boyfriend was probably just their idea of a real hoot. Spike's stance relaxed as he noticed her drop the makeshift stake halfway towards him. She believed. He'd probably tell her the truth in the future, but now didn't look like a good time. She was angry. He couldn't tell her about this wonderful thing he was doing for her yet. It was a surprise. 

"You didn't know him?" she asked quietly.

"No, never seen him before in my life. Or unlife." He watched her eyes tear up and wondered if she didn't believe him.

"That girl died because I wasn't paying attention..."

"Its equally my fault, luv."

"...Right there next to us. And we couldn't even tell...."

"I'm sorry."

"Its not... your fault. Spike. Really. Its not." she stepped forward, ready to hug him before they did anything else. Her eyes caught something on the floor behind Spike. Crumpled up against the tarmac it was barely noticeable, which was probably why she hadn't until this point. A small roll of plastic bags, like the kind you put food into the fridge in. Only thicker. Images came to her mind. Wayne's closed fist coming out of his pocket, Ian holding up a bag against the girl's neck. She stopped before she reached Spike's arms.

"You knew Wayne." she stated, tears disappearing as if they'd never been there. 

"Yeah..." he said slowly.

"And Wayne was with Ian." another statement, "He was telling the truth wasn't he?"

"No, Buffy--"

"Spike, lie to me now and you're dust." she glared up at him. Eyes, body, hard and ready to attack.

"It was a surprise..." he said slowly.

"A... what... a surprise?" she said incredulously, "Killing people?"

"No! Not killing people." he sighed, suddenly not meeting her gaze. The wonderful surprise suddenly didn't seem so great, "I knew that you wouldn't like it... me killing. So I stopped. Long ago I stopped."

"Stopped?" Buffy asked, voice icy, "Then what was all this about?"

"I had to get the blood from somewhere!" he cried out, eyes meeting hers again and pleading with her to understand. She didn't.

"You stopped killing people personally, but you funded a group that could do it for you?" she asked.

"I--"

"Shut up." she snapped, "I don't want to hear anything. _Anything_. From you."

"Buffy--"

"You always have to screw it up, don't you?" this question didn't demand answering. He couldn't argue with her when it was so plain she believed it to be true. Her voice was tired, as if this was exactly what she had expected. Expected from him. Because he could be no better. And because he'd hurt her. He'd have preferred her to hit him, that he could deal with. Even tears would be better than the resignation on her face. The pause of hatred and uncertainty stretched out between them, and before he could make it right Buffy turned and walked away. He could have run after her, tried to explain. But it was hopeless. In her eyes, he finally saw what he was to her. A monster. Nothing but. Nothing more. Nothing ever. 

He was only surprised that she hadn't staked him right then.

(Author's Note: Ahhh. Always love to end a chapter on a depressing note. Heh. But seriously, its like the storm before the storm before the hurricane, before the eye, before the clear weather. If that makes sense, weather metaphors suck. Long chapter, a bitca to code. Thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far, and to those who continue to review. :-) I'm not sure when I'll update next, but then again, I never am.)


	6. Reverse Fallout

Reverse Fallout

_What have I become?   
My sweetest friend   
Everyone I know   
Goes away, in the end   
You could have it all   
My empire of dirt   
I will let you down   
I will make you hurt _  
'Hurt' by Nine Inch Nails

Giles was staring sightlessly into a book as the doors of the Library crashed open. He'd wanted to do some research, advance his learning. But halfway though found his heart wasn't in it. At the loud sound outside his office he jumped twice, once in startlement, the second time from his chair and to a stake that lay ineffectually upon his desk. He picked it up with no preamble and stalked out into the main Library. 

Whatever demon he had been expecting to find there, looked nothing like the actual creature that stood just outside his office door, staring at him with haunted green eyes. After a moment's pause he lowered the stake, feeling brash for picking it up in the first place. Buffy watched the movement of his hand, eyes revealing nothing. Finally she said,

"You're here. I knew you would be." before collapsing into a chair behind her. Tears began to make tracks down her naked face to drop onto her clothes. He stood, still paused in shock at her sudden appearance after what seemed like months of absence. When he moved it was not towards her, but back into his office to fetch a box of tissues and possibly some tea. Whatever she had to say, it would probably take long enough for her to get upset about her tear-streaked appearance, and tired enough to need caffeine. 

*** 

Spike smacked his fist into the wall once before he realised it wasn't a good idea. The fact the thought only occurred to him afterward wasn't unusual. It was like this whole situation. Making him realise things too late, after there was nothing to do about them. It made the anger swell within him to unimaginable levels. Hence the wall-punching. But still he nursed his bloodied knuckles as he paced across the short width of the alley. His eyes darting constantly back to the dead girl. 

Bad idea. Bad idea to bring her here. Bad idea to let her see that. Bad idea to try and.... Bad idea. He wondered if he'd been paying more attention he would have noticed the killing going on behind him. But decided the answer was the negative. When she was in front of him, there was no reason to look behind. Another bit of symbolism. Wasn't he being eloquent tonight? Pity it wasn't when he needed to be. 

The Vampire appeared at the end of the passage way as if called by the Gods. Though Gods that would call a demon to deliver a message would not much care for the person the message was intended to. Sounded about right.

"What do you want?" Spike asked, the growl in his chest emitting before, though and after his speech. The easiest person to blame for this whole thing was standing not two feet away, and he felt like taking out some of his anger on something that would bleed and die. Not something constant and unmoving, like a wall, or heaven.

"My boys are both dead?" the Vampire asked, the words like those of a mob boss, the accent like that of an upperclassman, and the gestures like those of a predator. In some twisted way he was all that he seemed. Which was against all rules. No person --demon-- should be all that they seem. Depthless is a horrible way to be.

"Fuck off." Spike said in response. Now was not time for quaint British colloquialisms, just short, sharp, insulting words that got the point across.

"I don't think so." the Vampire said, the four words speaking the rest of the sentence for him. There was little need for him to reiterate with sounds what his approaching form and rolled back sleeves put exquisitely. His lackeys were dead, where demons were concerned, eye for an eye was not as archaic as many believed. It didn't matter that it was not Spike that killed them. All that mattered was that he would take the blame. 

With no butterfly floating, but plenty of bee stings Spike launched with a fury into attack. His bruised fist connected with flesh as readily as the unbruised one, the warm blood and broken bones satisfying over the pain and disfigurement. It worked both ways of course. He was a good fighter, but even the best cannot avoid every punch thrown at him. At the end, when his hand was suspended in readiness over a pile of ashes, blood seeped from his wounds as well. But it was the unnoticed kind, the sort that caused people who didn't know how quick the body heals, to stare. Even the human body. Some would understand, mostly those who shouldn't. 

As Spike rained down blows upon the Vampire he had no illusions as to why he was swinging them. This 'master' had been a physical presence at that moment. He had threatened, and he had jeered. He'd driven and manipulated. And just like the others he needed to die. Not out of justice. Nothing as good as that, but out of revenge. Out of elimination. Out of protection. Blame. When Spike picked up the same crate-splinter that the Slayer had used, perhaps it was because it carried some kind of poetic justice. But poetry seldom made things real.

*** 

Xander lay on his bed, only listening with one ear to the arguments downstairs. Soon enough it just became white noise. In the background but something he never paid attention to. He rolled a pencil between his fingers as he stared down at the book of equations and problems. The understated frown on his face fluctuated with his concentration as he drew in and rubbed out numbers and answers, the latter with disheartening regularity. 

When he reached the last problem, plenty before left undone, he shut the book and placed it back into his bag, even though the floor was beckoning it temptingly. So was the bin. He rolled over onto his back to stare at the ceiling, without really seeing it. He imagined his girlfriend, miles away staring up at blue sky and most definitely not returning the favour. If he could help who he loved then there would have been little worry, but he couldn't. Though somehow his problems with Cordelia, were different to the ones of Buffy and Spike. She was not a demon. She could not kill him with her bare hands. Or if she could she was keeping it quiet. He couldn't help being concerned for his friend, because that was what friendship was. Caring. But it was also accepting. And that was a few hundred miles away. Figuratively and literally. The relationships got so tangled in his mind that sometimes it was hard to pick apart the threads and think anew. At least he was happy. 

Staring upwards his face suddenly became animated with a smile. Before it had simply held glazed eyes and a solemn expression. It wasn't happy, just a curling of the lips, the ghost of a smile. One that satisfied, but gave nothing. Empty.

"Xander! Its your friend Willow on the line. Pick it up!" a voice called from below. Ordering rather than asking. He knew how his parents hated to be thrown off kilter in the middle of a really good row.

And a real smile crept through the fake one, for the smallest of moments in time. And he reached for the receiver. It was a smile of anticipation. Of hope. It reflected back in on himself and brightened his chest so that when he spoke, there was none of the darkness that his eyes held in his voice.

"Hey Will."

*** 

"How could he think that was all right?" Buffy questioned, as if the man before her had all the answers. She half expected him to have, as if he were her constant rock in the current. Lion in the Wardrobe. Jesus on the cross. But it was a selfish desire to martyr him just because she needed a hero. A saint. The truth. 

"Because all he was thinking about was you. Don't get me wrong, Buffy, you should probably stake him a thousand times over for what he's done. But this last indiscretion was because all he could see was you. He didn't understand that it was the killing you hated, just the thought of him doing it. In his mind, he probably thought he was doing something noble. Giving up the hunt and the kill for you. He's a demon, he doesn't understand how precious we hold life."

"So in Spike's twisted world, he was doing good?"

"No... not doing good. He was pleasing you. Or thought he was. His motives were still selfish. He wasn't thinking about the world, or saving lives, not like you have to. Not like a hero does. He was thinking about getting you." the Watcher's brow wrinkles in the way that someone's does when midway through a sentence they realise they were wrong about the beginning, "So I suppose ostensibly I was wrong. Yes, in Spike's world he was doing good, because it was all for you."

"It doesn't change anything though."

"No. And it shouldn't. But you have to understand, Buffy, if you want to try and love this demon, that it what he is. A demon."

"Try and love..." Buffy sighed and shook her head as if the clear that concept through her brain. "With Angel I didn't have to try. It came to me as naturally as breathing. Surely trying to love means there is no real love there."

"Or just repressed love." Giles set down his comforting cup of tea, next to the Slayer's untouched one. Perhaps there was symbolism there too. He was about to say something that he didn't quite like the sound of, even in his own head. But the truth didn't become untrue just by being left unsaid. The world was not formed by words, just destroyed by them. "If you really want to love someone. If your desire is that strong. How do you know you don't already?"

"But a killer. To love something that's wrong, surely that makes you wrong as well."

"Love shouldn't corrupt you, Buffy. It should strengthen you. Make you realise that you are beautiful. And that others see that too. If its real, then it can only make you strong."

"I don't know if I love him, Giles."

"I don't want you to love him." Another truth. "I can't lie about that. He's dangerous. He's amoral. But I can't stop you. I tried with Angel, so many times I tried when I shouldn't have. If you've come to me to make it stop, then I'm sorry, because its something I can't do. If you love him, if, then I can't help you to stop." Another shake of the head from her, a frown, a pursing of lips, "I don't mean that to be frightening. But who you love is very much your own business. Not mine." 

"He doesn't love me." 

"...Are you sure?" he asked, words tumbling out into the laughing void that had just heard that certain statement. 

"How can he when he does things like this?"

A soft smile was on his face, the first after what seemed like years. It was hard to be reasonable to his Slayer about the demon she did, or did not, love, because he hated that Vampire. He had proved before the summer that he could not love a demon. Her near-admissions to him hurt. Because they made him doubt his decision. Made him wonder if he should have saved her rather than killed her. But also in the same instant they reminded him that she had died the day he'd left her, not the day he'd plunged a stake into her heart. An inexcusable low, then a self-assuring high all in the moments they spoke. 

"I'm not sure what they teach in school now. And I hate saying that because it makes me feel old. Older than I am. But surely they've taught you about circular arguments in English. I believe we're going back to the beginning of our conversation."

"You must hate me, Giles."

"I cannot conceivably think why I should."

"Perhaps not hate then. But disappointment? Don't you feel that?" she said the words as if she was almost begging him to confirm her suspicions. 

"I can't... pretend that wasn't an issue. Isn't an issue. When you told me about what happened tonight, I would have gladly killed Spike for you. Not because of his crime, but because he upset you. I'm disappointed because I know you came to me understanding that would be my first reaction. You wanted that easy solution to your problems, which tomorrow, or a week from now, you'd hate me from carrying out. I'm disappointed because now, even after all our talking, I would still gladly kill him for hurting you." Giles smiled, it was a thin sad smile that showed much self-reflection, "But at least you still know me. And I you." Without pause for her to digest this he continued, "I suggest that we both go to bed now, being insightful can be exhausting. Think about what we've spoken of. And come to the Library tomorrow Buffy, I've missed you." he said the last looking into her face. He features had remained impassive through most of his speech, but now they softened.

"I've missed you too." she admitted, and finally they both smiled in unison, showing an affectionate solidarity that was had always been present. A comprehension somewhere between father-daughter and friend. An understanding of things unsaid that would be tautological to say. Something clichéd and real, as so many clichés are. Like that one about love, and it hurting.

(Author's Note: Too sappy? To predictable? Too small? Too strange? Too late at night for me to be writing? Hell yes. Things needed patching. Not sure when the next installment will be. Thanks for the reviews everyone.)


	7. Convergence

Convergence

_Otherwise this stone would seem defaced  
Beneath the translucent cascade of the shoulders  
And would not glisten like a wild beast's fur:_

_Would not, from all the borders of itself,  
Burst like a star: for here there is no place  
That does not see you. You must change your life._  
'Archaic Torso of Apollo' written by Rainer Maria Rilke 

"I'll get it mom..." Buffy called tiredly, taking her time to walk down the stairs. Once the knock on the door had sounded, she'd had to struggle into clothes and brush her hair. A few minutes more wouldn't make any difference. After the problems of the previous night she hadn't really been planning on getting up at all. But when she thought things like that a sick-guilty feeling settled into her stomach about her promise to visit Giles. And she was left wondering angrily why Spike should stop her from doing things. So she'd probably end up going after-all. 

Buffy reached the last step and leant forward to open the door, apology ready on her lips. The daylight flooded her eyes for a moment, and left her blinking. It was about half-an-hour before she'd usually get up, that coupled with how late she'd stayed out last night was making her sluggish. When the figure in the doorway came into focus, the words 'sorry you had to wait' froze and died in her mouth.

"Xander." she said with surprise, then quickly nodded to turn it into a greeting.

"Hey Buff." Xander breathed, with a nervous smile, "Can we talk?"

"Uh... Sure." Buffy hesitated for a moment, wondering if they should hug in greeting. The idea was quickly dismissed and she moved aside to let Xander walk in, closing the door behind him. After a pause she turned and smiled, "Sorry to keep you waiting. I had -- clothes issues."

"Well..." Xander glanced at the plain jeans and t-shirt, "You look great."

Buffy made a noncommittal noise and moved to sit on the bottom step of the stairs. After a moment Xander perched next to her. He leant forward and placed his hands on his knees, as if looking for something to do with them. Buffy flicked a strand of hair away from her face.

"So... You wanted to talk?" she asked, finally. The humour of the situation didn't pass her by. Hours after her non-official break-up with Spike, the one person who had remained actively adamant against the relationship was sitting next to her right now. As if she didn't have enough negative opinions by herself.

"Yeah." Xander confirmed, "I want us to be friends again, Buffy."

"We are friends." Buffy said after a gentle sigh. It seemed like the summer-long hiatus had been broken finally, and now maybe things would go back to normal, the way they were supposed to be. They were friends, it wasn't a lie. Not really. But was Xander trying to make up now because he had heard about Spike, or because he'd finally gotten over it?

"Good. Then we can talk about things. Like Angel. And how bad he was for you. And Spike, and how bad he _is_ for you." Xander watched as Buffy shifted uncomfortably, "...Except we can't, can we? Whatever my opinion is I've just got to keep my mouth shut and watch people hurt you. You keep telling me its none of my business, Will does, Cordelia does, hell even Oz does and you know how quiet he is... But seeing you so miserable is painful."

"Which is why you've not been hanging around with me much?"

"That's part of the reason, the other part is that you're always with Spike and he... gets on my last nerve."

"Yeah." Buffy agreed grudgingly, "But he does that with everyone."

"No, he doesn't. With everyone else its like he's flirting--" Buffy glared, "--teasing them, but with me its like he's... throwing down the gauntlet."

"Xander, you've hardly spoken to him at all when... he wasn't trying to kill us... how can you say that? In fact I think the only time you've exchanged words with him was when we came back from killing that cake thing."

"That's another thing! You go slaying with him now, rather than us. And hey, its not like I'm complaining about missing out on the killing and the maiming, but if we don't hang while you're slaying, when do we? "

"The Bronze, at school, before dark, Willow seems to manage it just fine." Buffy sighed and shifted around to face Xander, "Look, I'd love to hang out with you, Will, Oz, even Cordelia more, but I'm a Slayer. You knew that when you became my friend. So why don't you talk about what's really bothering you."

"Spike?" Xander questioned, as if making sure she was ready to hear that particular rant.

"Spike." she confirmed. 

"You know how I feel about him." Xander avoided, he'd come here to make up and any talk about the bleached-wonder would probably just make things worse.

"No. Tell me. I want to know. Tell me he's evil. He's a killer. A demon. He's not worthy of me." Buffy watched Xander's reactions shrewdly, "Tell me to dump him."

"Buffy...." he sighed, "...If Spike is what you want... I can't... control that. I just want you to be happy. Want us to be friends."

"I already told you, we are."

"Definitely?" Xander asked, a small insecure smile playing around his lips.

"Yeah."

He pulled her into an awkward hug, which took a few minutes to become comfortable. Buffy felt a pressure lifting from her shoulders that she hadn't noticed before. Xander didn't mind her being with Spike. Her friends accepted her choice. But the freeing experience was shot down by the fact that her relationship was probably over now. She'd not decided. She hadn't thought Xander's approval would mean so much to her, but it did. Made her want to reconsider. She thought about telling Xander that because of his visit she was now thinking about giving Spike a second chance, but decided against it. He probably wouldn't find it funny.

*** 

Spike's boots made sickening noises in the sewage, but he didn't notice. Or care. There was hardly any nicer place to walk around in the daytime when you caught fire in sunlight. He pulled his coat tightly around himself and swaggered through the darkness, the smell not touching his nose. He had better things to worry about than appearances, and as a demon smelling and looking disgusting was generally a plus. Buffy wouldn't have liked it, but it wasn't really her problem anymore was it?

_She hasn't broken it off with you mate_, said one part of his mind. The hopeful part that could probably argue love as an incentive -- and excuse. The other, and more realistic part added, _yet_.

He couldn't understand, truly, what he'd done wrong. Though he suspected it was something to do with that girl. The dead one. After the anger had worn of, which had taken a while, he'd called for help and made sure everything was done _properly_, by human standards. Even stood there when parents arrived and cried. Not for her though, for his Slayer. He didn't much care about the corpse on the pavement, just that it had upset Buffy so much. Perhaps she blamed him. Because through his distraction she couldn't save a human life. It was what she did after all. Saved people. Maybe she blamed him for her own incompetence -- _No, no, not incompetent, she wasn't that_ -- her own lack-of-success. Maybe she was just upset, and she'd get over it. Come to him and tell him she was sorry for making him a scapegoat. 

But perhaps it wasn't the girl. She hadn't run away as soon as she saw the body. Hadn't flung accusations and run then. No, she'd talked and forgiven. It must have been something he said. But the words just bled together. He just remembered lust, surprise, defensiveness, relief and... heartbreak? No. Disappointment. Anger. He remembered the emotions he'd felt but not quite why he'd felt them. Had it been about the blood? He'd thought it would make her so happy, in fact the reason he hadn't told her before was that it was almost _too_ nice a gesture to make. He was... embarrassed. But he knew she didn't like killing. It must have been the girl. Maybe he needed to find her, reassure her, apologise even though he wasn't sure what he'd done wrong. 

He wasn't her lap dog. Not her slave. He didn't need to go grovelling to her, asking forgiveness. He was evil, liked it that way, months ago when she'd told him he was different he'd killed someone just to prove her wrong. Something he would never tell her. Forgiveness wouldn't change what he was, it made him feel sick inside that she'd offer it. Then again she did want to change what he was. Because she hated it _so_ much. She hid it well when they were together, but the closing moments of last night -- the way she'd looked at him -- confirmed her thoughts, and thousands of little moments converged in his mind. Times when she'd pulled her hands away from him, when she'd refused to kiss him, when she'd answered him with a sharp remark. They all came together in that moment when she looked at him -- her eyes telling him she still knew he was a monster. _Aren't you proud of that? You say you're not her lap dog. That you're evil. You should want to be a monster. _

_She doesn't want a monster._ Not too long ago Spike would have said 'fuck what she wants', but two seconds away from her and he was going crazy already. She was still attracted to him though, it took an idiot to think differently. But the times that she lavished him with attention and praise were generally when he was doing something... human. That was what she wanted from him, but she'd never get. If it walks like a human and talks like a human, what is it? A Vampire. Trying so hard to fit in has its benefits. She was obviously one of them. So she wanted him to be part of the pulse-endowed crowed. Was that why he wanted her? Because she made him feel alive? Were they both just kidding themselves when they rubbed against each other, both pretending for a moment that he wasn't evil, and she wasn't supposed to kill him? 

He _was_ evil, and damn proud of it. But he didn't understand. Was he dumped? If so, why? Why was she angry? Why did he even want her back? If it was just lust, why didn't he just take her. Its not like he hadn't done it before. Take her, then kill her. Another sick feeling in his stomach. Why? It was all too confusing. Too God damned lively for a member of the undead. Rip, tear, destroy. Yeah, right.

Spike doubled checked he had the right place before climbing the ladder upwards. The metal rungs were wet and slippery, with something that smelt worse than death. And as a dead man, Spike was a good judge. He cautiously lifted a hand up and pushed the manhole cover up an inch. No greedy sunlight poured in to incinerate him and with a carefully placed punch the metal lid slid to the side allowing him enough of a gap to slip out of. When he was out he found himself in a familiar grubby back room, and he shook out his clothes in preparation. He may have been walking through shit but he didn't have to look like it. He reflexively brought a hand up to his hair to smooth in down, stopping himself moments before. He didn't need to check it that badly. 

He walked towards the only door in the room and kicked it open with good-natured bravado. The lock-and-catch had been broken long ago so now it just swung on its hinges freely. Before he could walk any further forward though he found a small man suddenly standing in front of him, dishcloth held out like some kind of weapon.

"Can't come in here Spike..." Willy said.

"Why the hell not?" the Vampire asked, glancing over the barkeeper's head to the almost-empty bar behind. 

"Well, uh, you're not the most popular of fellas around these parts..." Willy stuttered, "I-I don't want no fights in here today... Cops might start taking notice."

"Willy, this place has been here for years without any intervention, and Sunnydale police are infinitely stupid." Spike explained with surprising restraint of anger. His teeth didn't break from gritting together or anything, "Now I know you're not one to turn away business. Especially _my_ business. If you know what's good for you."

"Tell 'im Willy!" a voice shouted from one of the tables out of Spike's sight.

"Tell me what?" Spike snapped, surging forward and past Willy as if the short man wasn't even there. He glared around the room for the source of the voice, all eyes were eagerly turned upon him as they waited for hell to break loose, "What?" he asked again.

"That we don't want the Slayer's bitch around here." the deep voice of a bulky Vampire sang out into the smoky air.

Fighting was easy. Demons demanded it. Like blood. And sex. Throwing punched, breaking bones, having them broken, the pain was a turn on. The death was a rush. Spike sized up his opponent with a quick flick of the eyes and snorted. The Vamp seemed to take this as a signal to start and he lunged forward. They exchanged punched, ducks and feigns. It was boring. Nothing like fighting a Slayer. Kinda like fighting with Angelus. He was strong, fast, but he had that annoying confidence that made him stupid. But still he trapped Spike and held a stake up to his chest. It was a stake that Spike had pulled out, one that Buffy made him carry. Spike smirked up at Bulky,

"What do you think the Slayer will do to you if you stake me?" he asked. The Vampire paused and Spike took that moment to charge forward. It was easy to turn the stake. Reduce to dust. Set the room to silence. But as he held the stake he realised he didn't really feel like a drink any more. Not like drowning his sorrows. He was impatient. He wanted to know. Was he the Slayer's bitch? Her boyfriend? Her plaything? Her love. Her prey.

"Thanks for the fun Willy..." Spike said, before making his voice louder, "And you better not fucking try to keep me out of here again." With a swift nod he walked back out into the small dirty room and back down into the sewers. When his feet touched dirt again he set off in the direction of the high school.

*** 

Xander hopped from one foot to the other. Cordelia was back today. He'd been flip about it with everyone who'd asked, but really he had been counting down. They'd talked a few times on the phone, but Cordy didn't like calling his place. His parents didn't care who they were rude to. And for some reason she wouldn't give him the number to call her. He'd missed her. She was annoying and bitchy, but she was also his. His girlfriend. His mind still boggled at that. Beautiful Cordelia Chase who'd picked on him since kindergarten was now the woman he loved. And she loved him back.

He stared at a new swarm of people as they passed through the doors and along the corridor. None were her. He hadn't seen anyone else today either. Other than Buffy. It was nice to be back in the circle again. He wasn't going to let Spike get in the way of his friendships. After they'd made up he'd hugged her a few more times then left so that she could do all the girly stuff that she apparently needed to do before school. She'd looked fine to him. Will had called the night before and talked him into going over to the blonde's house. He was glad of it now, but at the time he'd been sceptical. He'd expected Buffy to defend her Vampire more. Not that he was complaining--

"Hey!" Cordelia waved a hand a few inches before Xander's noise, before flicking his cheek painfully with a perfect nail, "I thought you were admiring my beauty, with the drool and all. Then I saw you were just being all comatose again." she grinned at him.

"Cordelia!" he almost shrieked, his voice raising a few octaves. He moved to hug her and she returned the favour, whispering in his ear,

"Did they fall off while I was away? 'Cause if you're going to be hitting notes like that often people are going to start wondering if I ripped them from your body. And if I did I'm sure I'd remember."

"What?" Xander blinked, "No! No..." he coughed and made his voice comically deep, "Not at all."

"Just checking." she chuckled, smile not quite reaching her eyes that were searching the crowd behind Xander. He didn't notice.

"Checking huh? First thing you check on when you get back is my... you know. I'm beginning to think you only want me for my body."

"Hardly." Cordelia said, nose wrinkling with disgust. Xander's eyes widened with uncertain hurt, not sure if she was joking or not. Cordelia pressed a kiss to his mouth and he calmed immediately, but it was so brief that he didn't have time to reciprocate.

"H-How was the holiday?" he asked, placing an arm around her waist as she turned to walk towards her locker.

"Oh... It was all right..." she sighed, "... Kinda boring, nothing to do but tan so..." she gestured to her darkened skin, "...Which is something that I used to love to do, but now its just boring." she paused then glared at him, "I think that's your fault." she accused.

"Sorry for making you less shallow." he grinned, "We can talk about fashion and hairstyles if you want...?" She slapped his arm, "Or not... Did you miss me?"

"Yep. None of the men on holiday licked my shoes as well as you. Oh look, here's my locker!" She slid away from him and almost ran towards her the end of the hall. Xander glared after her, keeping up his slow pace until she turned and grinned at him teasingly. Then he jogged to catch her up.

*** 

"Giles?" Buffy called out softly into the dark room. It didn't look as if the Librarian had been in at all that day. Books that had been there yesterday sat on the table along with two empty cups and some scrunched up tissue. The curtains were drawn and the lights were off. After dragging herself into school today Buffy couldn't help being a little annoyed that Giles hasn't done the same. Especially seeing as they had an appointment and everything. Then again it wasn't like Giles to not clean up before leaving for the night. Perhaps there was apocalyptic evil going on somewhere. Then again he'd have called for that. 

Sighing and hoping for the best Buffy walked slowly around, pulling curtain cords and spilling light into the room. She wrestled a window open in an attempt to let the stuffiness out, if that was even possible. Clearing up the cups and the tissue was easy, but she discarded the idea of tidying up the books, she'd probably just put them in the wrong place anyway. It occurred to her that she was probably just trying to kill time before going to lessons, facing her friends and telling them about the previous night. Especially Willow. She'd been there when they'd made the date, she was sure to want to know what went on. 

Walking into the office Buffy stopped dead and stared at the figure slumped over the desk. It was Giles, his head resting on an open book and his eyes closed. Her heartbeat speeded up for one horrible second before she realised he was just asleep. His glasses were all askew on his head in a way that didn't look comfortable, he must have been really tired. She rested against the door frame for a long moment before stepping forward and touching his shoulder.

"Giles?" she shook him a little and he woke up with a start.

"What?" he blinked and stared up at her, "Buffy? What time is it?"

"Uh... about ten in the morning." she said, a sheepish smile on her face.

"Dammit." he said mildly, as if the news didn't come as a surprise to him, just a small annoyance. 

"Yeah." Buffy agreed, "Studying all night? Some new evil brewing?"

"Uh... No... I guess time just... got away with me." He straightened his glasses and closed the book before him, "Did you get home all right last night? How're you feeling?"

"Uh, better, but still confused I--"

"Giles! Buffy? Are you in here?" Xander called loudly. Buffy and Giles exchanged a look before both walking from the office. Xander grinned when he saw them, Cordelia just looked bored, "Wow Giles, is the crinkly look back in for middle-aged men? You look like you slept in those clothes."

"Hey Cordelia." Buffy offered, "When you went away we were afraid we'd loose all those cutting clothing remarks, but we shouldn't have lost faith, you trained Xander well."

"Hey Buffy." Cordelia returned, "Speaking of men, and clothes, has yours gotten over his Sheena-Is-A-Punk-Rocker faze yet?"

"Ah. I believe I've been speaking with too many teenagers," Giles observed, "That actually made sense to me. Now, was there any particular reason you came to visit or was it just to trade witty repartee?"

"Its a little chilly in here." Cordelia said with a frown. Buffy hurried over to the window and closed it, not catching or not acknowledging the real meaning behind the brunette's phrase. 

"We just came here to say 'hi'." Xander said, his voice a little offended, eyes darting from Buffy to Giles then back again. The Slayer smiled reassuringly, not wanting to ruin their newly rekindled friendship, "Is something wrong? Evil? Demons? Vampires? Drained youths?"

"Nope." Buffy said quickly, flashing a slight smile to Giles who returned it. The door swung open again and the Librarian sighed inwardly as he turned to see who else was here to annoy him. Everyone else turned also as if in a well-scripted move. 

"Oh. Speaking of terrorisers of the people, hello Spike" Xander said, his attempts to make an effort and be civil lost on the Vampire, who immediately looked at Buffy.

"Luv..." he started.

"Not here!" she practically shouted, making herself the centre of attention. She chuckled nervously and backed up a few steps. Looking at Giles for guidance she saw him remaining quiet. No help there. Was she still with Spike or not? She'd have liked to have had time to make the decision, but with people here she knew she needed to decide. Could she forgive him for drinking human blood? It wasn't as if he'd killed anyone directly. _Just indirectly_. Did she l--ike him enough to give it another try. He'd crept into her life like a... disease. Could she get rid of him now? After the split second of nervous laughter and indecision Buffy walked forward and tilted her head upwards to kiss Spike. She almost felt the relief radiating off his lips, but when he tried to respond she pulled away and pasted a grin on her face at the disgusted Xander.

It was probably a mistake. It was a mistake. But it stopped the suspicious glanced and questions for a moment. The look on Spike's face made guilt start stomping around in her stomach though. He looked as if Christmas had come, if demons actually celebrated the birth of Christ. Which was doubtful. But he looked happy non-the-less. She reached for and grabbed his hand, dragging him further into the Library to try and speak to him in private. The rest of the group followed though until they were all standing around the table. 

"Have you seen Will yet today?" Buffy asked finally.

"Nope." Xander sighed, "Or Oz, but I guess we will."

"Yeah. Willow's a big geek, she'll come to the Library sooner or later." Cordelia pointed out. Buffy shook off Spike's hand, not daring to look at his face and see the reaction. She watched Giles instead looking for disappointment and disgust. Instead the Watcher's face was carefully subdued, his eyes never quite meeting Buffy's and skipping over Spike entirely. It looked as if discussions were on the way. With shouting and possible punches. The door of the Library clicked open and shut again.

All eyes turned and fixed upon the it, as if some inexplicable force commanded them to. Maybe they expected Willow to enter, as they'd just been speaking of her. Timing was a vital part of humour, and they all looked at the doorway as if it would contain a punch-line. One that would be especially funny to those who hadn't noticed the uncomfortable silence that had begun to spread outward. A woman stood in one of the brightest beams of light, not heavenly illumination but it might as well have been. Because the alternative was too staggering to contemplate. After the briefest of moment's the woman spoke to the room, though the words were obviously intended for someone in particular. The group glanced about at each other to check that they weren't hallucinating. 

"Hello lover." Drusilla purred to Spike, "Miss me?"

(Author's Note: Has it really been two weeks since my last update? Guess so. Real life sucks sometimes. As always I'll try to update again soon, but the main word there is 'try'. Thanks for all your reviews :-) As a hint for the next chapter, has anyone ever seen the Red Dwarf episode 'Camille'? Heh. I'm a big nerd at heart.)


	8. Katharos

Katharos

_My life has crept so long on a broken wing   
Through cells of madness, haunts of horror and fear,   
That I come to be grateful at last for a little thing._  
'My Life Has Crept So Long' written by Lord Alfred Tennyson 

Buffy stared at Angelus. Angel. It was as if her eyes were glued into place. She wasn't even sure if she was blinking. He was standing there. Right there. By the door. Looking at her. He was dead. But he was there. Dead, really dead, not undead. When she finally managed to break her gaze away she slid it towards Spike, who was also staring at Angel with a shocked expression. He didn't seem angry, or jealous, just surprised. Obviously not part of his doing. Next her eyes slid to Giles, and she swore they almost fell out of their sockets when she saw tears running in tracks down the man's cheeks. Actual tears. Over Angel? That is if he was souled. Maybe he was Angelus. Maybe he was evil. He hadn't tried to hug her, say he was sorry. He must be evil. Here to kill them all. She needed to do something about it. Do what she'd been too scared to do before. Sluggishly Buffy returned her gaze to Angelus and she reached behind her back, pulling a stake out of nowhere, or so it seemed. She only managed to take a few steps forward however before Spike put his arm out and stopped her. She looked up at him with confusion and found his eyes still on his Grand-Sire, a look of awe on his face.

*** 

She was back. After so long, she was back, for him. He thought he'd given her up. Thought he'd moved on. But now she was here. And there was no Angel to come between them. _Buffy_. His eyes darted to her for a second, finding her watching her Watcher as if waiting for a signal. Drusilla was back. They'd all hate that. For a moment Spike entertained the idea of running away with her now. Away from the Slayer, further, away from Sunnydale. In a small-sad way he knew that Buffy wouldn't follow, wouldn't try to kill him. No sooner had he thought of the Slayer's generosity than he felt torn. Which one of these two women did he want. He loved Drusilla, always would. But Buffy... He saw her moving forward out of the corner of his eye, stake raised. She obviously wanted to make the decision for him. And in an instant he held her back. Told her to stop with his eyes. When he saw that she agreed, he forgot about her and walked forward. As he got closer to Dru his human mask dissolved, revealing the demon. She smiled at him, and he felt the tug low in his stomach.

In an instant he found himself being pushed away by someone who ran towards Drusilla. It was Giles, he glared at Spike until the Vampire backed down, then turned towards the woman he had just 'protected'.

***

Giles felt his eyes welling up with tears and the saltwater overflowing and trickling down before he could stop it. He tried to blink it away with disgust, it was making his vision blurry and he had to be _sure_ of what he was seeing. Perhaps he'd fallen asleep and this was a dream. A strange dream with Xander and Spike in it. As hard as that was to believe, it couldn't be reality. Jenny was dead. She wasn't standing before him, soft smile on her face. Vaguely he was aware of movement, and in the next instant he saw Spike walking towards her, demon face bared. 

No. No. _Not again_. She wouldn't be killed again. Not turned again. _No_. Giles ran forward and beat the Vampire away. He seemed surprised but compliant. When Giles was sure, truly sure, that Spike wouldn't rush forward, he turned to Jenny, who was watching him. Silently. He stepped forward, and forgot about everyone else around him. Slowly he reached out and touched her sleeve. She was real. She was here. With a soft moan he fell forward and pulled her into a hug, then when that wasn't enough he brought his head up and kissed her full on the lips.

***

"Giles!" Buffy said, eyes wide with horror. There was really nothing else she could say. Nothing that would ever, ever wipe the image from her mind that she was now seeing. Giles kissing Angelus. Hugging and kissing as if they were in love. Everyone else maintained their shocked silences, Cordelia and Xander held onto each others arms with confusion written over their features. Finally the boy spoke,

"Okay.... Does anyone else see Giles kissing Cordelia?" His tone was somewhere between amused and frightened. Giles pulled away from the kiss with shock.

"No. I saw Giles kissing..." Cordelia turned her head and narrowed her eyes at Xander, "...You."

"What?" Xander seemed to pail visibly, "T-That's not... one of your fantasies is it?"

"Eww! No." she slapped his arm, "Its just what I saw... Who did you think you were kissing Giles? Pleeease tell me you're not going all Judy Garland-fan on us."

"Its..." Giles refused to let Jenny go, but he turned his head to stare at the people behind him, "Its Jenny..." he said softly. Seeing the sorrow-wed-confusion on the others faces he turned back to her and asked pleadingly, "Isn't it?"

Buffy swallowed back tears and anger, neither would work just yet. Giles spoke his question so softly that she doubted the non-super members of the group had heard. But she had. He'd sounded like a child who'd suddenly lost its innocence. Had its illusions shattered. Knowing what he was told was true, but understanding that once he accepted it things would be grievously different, slowly she said,

"Giles... That's not Miss Calendar."

"How would you know!" Giles shouted, his voice betraying unshed tears, "Your boyfriend was a murderer and you didn't even know! Didn't listen. Not until he took her." Giles drew a shaky breath into the silence, when he let it out his fingers unclasped from the garment's of the person before him, "Sorry Buffy I--" he sighed "What is it?" stared at her "What are you?"

"Oh crap." the woman --thing-- exclaimed before snapping her fingers, and in an impressive piece of no-strings magic changed appearance. And this time everyone saw the same thing. A woman dressed in a long-white flowing dress that was crimped about the hem and looked almost sickeningly fluffy -- covered in layers of lace. Her hair was a nondescript red-brown, grown to a length that the natural curls had started to straighten out from the weight. Her skin was pail, almost faintly yellow, and showed choice blue veins on her arms when the material moved aside. She had a tall forehead spotted with freckles that ran down along her podgy nose, that fits her curvy figure. She finally seemed to notice everyone staring and drew full lips defensively thin, "It seemed like a good idea at the time."

"What," asked Buffy, breaking the silence, "seemed like a good idea?"

"The, the--" the woman waved her hand, "--illusion. Didn't figure there'd be many of you here."

"It was all a trick..." Giles breathed, surprised by his own relief at the truth.

"Uh, illusion, not trick--"

"A glamour." Giles amended, keen to disappear back into his reserved facade. To become a Librarian and Watcher again, and to push back that part of his life that was neither school or world-saving related. He felt the steady trembling in his limbs lessen as he walked away from the woman, and he'd like to believe that was another spell. He'd _like_ to. It was as if he was reliving that experience in a mansion again. Jenny coming back, but having to let her go again, because he wasn't strong enough to keep her. Every time he thought he was over-- every time he thought he'd made peace -- she came back. He hated her for haunting him. Then he hated himself for blaming her. He was the one who'd let her die. _What could you have done?_ Something. He could have done something. _What?_ He didn't know. It didn't matter anyhow. It'd just been a trick.

"I'm not putting on a stupid little witchy show here to impress. It was an illusion. Its over now. Deal with it." then to herself the woman snorted loudly, "Mortals. Sheesh."

"But we all saw different things. How did--"

"God!" the woman stamped a foot on the floor then sighed and spoke condescendingly, "It was an illusion to make anyone who saw me think they were seeing the person they loved -- or as close to loved. Which--" a grin formed, "--has actually produced some interesting results with people who've only experienced hate as their strongest emotion. Ha!" she chuckled to herself, while everyone stared. Not at one point did she become self-conscious, the laughter trickled out naturally leaving a stern face to answer confused ones, "Wasn't wanting to engage in osculation with all of you or anything. Is the concept so hard to understand?"

"Oscu--What?" Xander questioned. Giles, with a slight blush piped up,

"You don't need to know."

"It sounds like something you'd know about.." Cordelia whispered to her boyfriend. He started,

"I just--What?"

"Freaky alternative universe mind-control with male-on-male action? Its like something right out of your stupid comic books." she persisted.

"I never made you read those!" Xander protested, half angry, half happy. Then, "Male-on-male action?"

"Guys!" Buffy chastised. They both fell quiet and returned their attention to the strange woman. Buffy simply asked, "Why?"

"I thought--" she shrugged and began stepping further into the room as she spoke, "--that you'd be more inclined to listen that way. Guess not." she raised her hands then let them fall, "My bad."

"Listen to what?" asked Buffy guilt and anger fighting inside her and making her voice surprisingly neutral. So she didn't love Spike then. And he didn't love her. She'd seen Angel, and he'd seen... someone who plainly wasn't her. Drusilla? Surely, she'd seen his past. Knew how he treated her. She'd ask him later. After the whole break-up speech. If _that_ ever happened. Her resolve wasn't as strong as it used to be. At moments she could mean exactly what she was saying, then give in only hours later. It wasn't that he was irresistible... just... complicated.

"I came here," sighed the woman, "because I need a champion."

"Great." Buffy snapped. Deciding that anger was the way to go, "Just great. You trick us because you want help. Well how do we know you're not evil, and whatever you want done isn't... evil. Huh?" she finished lamely.

"My name is Katharos." the woman stared at Buffy and immediately the Slayer got the feeling she wasn't liked, after a moment the eye-contact was broken and she woman continued speaking, "Kat. For short. Do you know what that means?"

"..Pure..." Giles said into the unforgiving silence.

"Right." Kat said, making a shooting motion with her hand towards Giles, "Pure. Sure I could be 'Pure evil' but never much one for the post modifiers." she subtly edged closer to Spike even as she address the whole group, no-one noticed, "The thing I want done will save human lives, that doesn't sound like evil, now does it? You're all looking sceptical still... Okay... Visual demonstration it is..."

Suddenly she was right by Spike's side, and no-one had noticed her get there. She reached out and touched the Vampire's arm. Not in a clinical way like most people did, but in a friendly, almost flirtatious way. She tucked her hand between arm and torso and ran fingers up the leather of his coat. Her eyes fixed on his face, unflinching at the ridges and teeth. Spike looked down at the woman, not attempting to move but a strong look of distaste on his features that had appeared ever since he found that he had been fooled. She leant close as if to whisper, but instead spoke loud enough so that all could here, "Try to pull back your human face."

"Why?" Spike blinked at her, then smirked, "Scare you does it?"

"Just do it." she ordered.

"Oh. I--"

"Spike." Buffy warned, her body tense at his side. She had her arms crossed over her chest and her hands balled into fists as if trying to stop herself from jerking Spike away from the groping woman. She wasn't jealous, _it wasn't that_. And she wasn't possessive, but for some reason it annoyed her all the same.

"Fine." he said. A moment later a growl emitted from his throat. Cordelia and Xander took a step backwards at the same time, almost tripping over each other. A look of concentration filled Spike's face for a long second before he snarled sulkily, "Can't."

"Exactly!" the woman turned to the rest of the group as if Spike no longer existed. But her hand rested still on his arm adding much to Buffy's chagrin, "He can't hide what he is when he is near me, because his demon senses the good in me." everyone was frowning now, "Oh come on! It makes sense!" Kat exclaimed with exasperation, "Its a reaction of evil to good. Do you want more proof?" She let go of him finally and moved her hand up to his face. He stared at her fingers before his eyes travelled down to her wrist uncontrollably, "When he's around me. When demons are. They can't quite keep control of their instincts." she waved her wrist slowly and his eyes followed it as if in a trance, "Granted he's a strong one, that's why--"

"Okay. Cut the show. We believe you." Buffy snapped. Kat dropped her arm down and stepped away from Spike. The glazed look fell from his eyes and his attention shot to Buffy. She looked pissed. About what? The bloodlust? He was a Vampire, it was part of the package. But then again the night before she... No. That had been about the death. _She must be pissed because she thought I was going to take a bite out of this bint_, Spike thought, _I do have some control_. But then again, hell, he was pissed too. Didn't like being taken over -- having his feelings used against him. Had enough of that last year.

"What.." said Giles weakly, trying to take in everything that was going on and ignore the ongoing soap opera that was Buffy and Spike, "...do you want from us?"

"Told you." said Kat, "Help. A champion."

"What do you want me to do?" Buffy asked, tired.

Kat turned and laughed as she looked at Buffy. She didn't point or anything, but she might as well have. She threw her head back and positively crowed as if Buffy had said the funniest thing in the world. When she came back from her revelry she found a bemused look on the Slayer's face, "Sorry honey.." she murmured, an edge of humour still in her voice, "Its just... what made you think I wanted _you_ to help me?" then as an afterthought, "Save the world."

"Uh. Because I'm the Slayer" Buffy said in that 'I'm-ready-to-kick-your-ass-now' tone.

"Well. Isn't that nice for you." Kat's expression was turning sour, "Still doesn't mean I want you as my champion. Saving the world and all."

"Who could do it better?" Buffy asked smugly, ready with a rebuttal about whoever was chosen.

"Huh." this time Kat pointed to get her thoughts across, "Him." Everyone in the room stared, even Spike stared which was strange, because the finger was pointed straight at him.

(Author's Note: Me and Anticlimax, we're old friends. Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter ie. dustyvamp :) Its appreciated. As always, I don't know when I'll update again... But I'll try for soon.)


	9. Hell is for Heroes

Hell is for Heroes

_And now that the world isn't ending  
Its love that I'm sending to you  
It isn't the love of a hero  
And that's why I fear it won't do..._  
'Hero' by Chad Kroger

"What?!" Spike near-shouted into the room, eyes wide.

"Him?" Buffy asked, incredulously. Giles stared, Cordelia looked bored, Xander began laughing, 

"Spike.... A Champion... Saviour of the--"sob,"--world." he doubled over, hands on his knees as if trying to stop himself falling to the ground.

"A little un..orthadox.." Giles managed to say.

"That hairdresser's nightmare?" Cordelia added, not to be left out.

"I am not a.... I'm not a sodding hero." Spike protested.

"Right!" Buffy agreed, "He's useless actually. And formerly evil."

"Formerly? I'm evil! Bad! I'd rather be... be.."

"Destroying the world!" Buffy finished, "Not saving it."

"Yeah" Spike said, his eyes shifted to the girl in front of him, speaking adamantly about his lack of scruples, "Yeah.... Carnage and the like." His eyes shifted to Xander who'd given up the fight and fallen to the floor in silent mirth.

"Nope." Insisted Kat, "You're the guy I was sent after."

"But... he's a Vampire." Buffy stated.

"Yeah... And?" 

"That doesn't... bother you at all...?"

"Nope." Kat said again, hands falling to her hips and elbows popping out, "Now can we get down to the nitty-gritty... I didn't come here to watch men who should be out of that phase pee their pants..." she glared at Xander then shifted her gaze to Spike, expression changing to a smile, "So if you'll just come with me..."

"Nu uh." Buffy stepped between the woman and Spike, arms akimbo also, "He's not going with you."

"Okay... I'll humour you..." the woman said, "Why not?"

"Because there is no way Spike could save the would better than I could." Buffy snapped.

"_Anything he can do you can do better, you can do anything better than him_?" the woman half-sang, half-said before her eyes narrowed and she asked, "That right chickie?" then off their horrified looks she frowned, "You guys never seen musicals?" blank faces stared back at her for a long while before Spike piped up softly, 

"No she can't..." which made Kat smile brilliantly, and Buffy turn to glare at him, still not getting it. He shrugged at his sort-of-girlfriend and continued to Kat, "...But Irving Berlin aside... What actually needs doing to save the world.... Do I have to be a sacrifice? Is that what this is? Vampire sacrifice needed because they're not as important as humans?"

"...That I could deal with..." Buffy conceded, and looked at Kat for an answer.

"Nope." she said again as if it was her favourite word, "Courage, battles, that's what's going to save the world. No death required. In fact generally being alive at the end of it is a sure sign of success... Or undead, in your case."

"Why do you need him?" Buffy asked, "You said alive, so it can't be because he's a Vampire... So what is it, is it because he's a pain-in-the-ass, because he's part of an old demon line, because..."

"I'm stunningly attractive?" Spike finished. 

"No." Kat grinned and winked at Spike, "Well, maybe the last one."

Xander was back on his feet and watching the three-way conversation, well-aware that neither him nor the other two vaguely normal people were in on this one. Why was Buffy even bothered that Spike was the one needed? Shouldn't she be happy, he got to redeem himself and she got to stay away from danger. That should have been a good thing. Granted it was probably a great big trap, but Xander wouldn't complain if it was... might be fun in an oops-he's-dead kinda way. It couldn't be that she was worried for him, could it? The bleached-wonder wasn't that bad a fighter... if the apocalypse was better averted by him that Buffy, how hard could it be? Not that he'd choose to fight it anyway. Probably sit back and toast marshmallows as the world burned. 

Buffy glared at the woman flirting with her sort-of-boyfriend. She hadn't dumped him yet, he was still taken officially. Then again she had been planning to... what harm was it. Why should she care? It was the principal of the thing. Yes. It was sad when jealousy made her like Spike more, if that was what it was. Could you be jealous without loving the person? Could she love a killer, or care about who he slept with? _He didn't kill._ Not directly. But it was the same thing. And he couldn't tell the difference. _It was for you... Yeah, that makes me feel better._

"What is this threat to _humanity_?" Buffy asked, stressing the last word on purpose, "When is it coming? Why can only _he_ save us?"

"Because he's done it before." Kat said simply.

"What?" Both blondes shrieked at the same time, then not put off by the symmetry they both added, "When?"

"A few months ago." Kat offered, then looked at them expectantly, when they all showed they'd gone back to staring she sighed again, deeply, "We sent a monster out... into this world... well actually it kinda escaped... but forget that detail. He killed it when it should have been impossible. Passed the test. He's our guy."

All eyes turned to Spike expectantly but he just shrugged, when they kept staring he scowled.

"I've killed demons, yeah... But none that was 'specially hard. Not that I couldn't..."

"You can't tell me you've forgotten." the woman's eyes were wide, "Big guy... fleet of foot, fur and fang? Sometimes a little scaly around the... well... everywhere..."

"Sounds like the demon _I_ killed before the summer." Buffy said, eyeing Kat.

"Kakeaner?" Giles asked weakly, inserting himself into the conversation.

"That's what you--we called him." Buffy agreed.

"No, sweetie, you must be thinking of another..." she shot a glance at Giles, "...evil man... This demon was killed by... Spike here." she said the Vampire's name as if she was translating it and wasn't sure she had the word right.

"How do you know this, any of this?" Buffy snapped, knowing now that this woman before her must be wrong, "Why are you so sure it was him who killed it?"

"Because I was told so." 

"Who told you?"

"The...Who I work for."

"And who is that?" Buffy asked, the feeling of interrogation clearly being lost on Kat who was smiling pleasantly at the Slayer as if she was a child to be indulged every now and then.

"I'm not allowed to say--" she raised a hand when Buffy's mouth opened again, "--I'm really not. I don't even know if I could say... literally."

"We can assume you're... coming from the powers?" asked Giles tentatively.

"You can assume that." Kat with uninflected confirmation.

"What do that sodding powers want with me?" Spike asked, getting annoyed that the conversation seemed to be travelling away from him and sure that the two women would decide what he was doing without even asking his opinion, "I'm a Vampire. Something they want to wipe out? Hence the Slayer here. What am I supposed to do for them?"

"I'll show you." Kat said simply.

*** 

"Why are we here?" Cordelia asked, lurching to one side violently as one of her heels slipped on a tree root. Xander caught her arm and helped her to straighten,

"Because they are." Xander nodded ahead to the group of four who were talking in hushed, though frustrated, voices. Buffy was holding onto Spike's arm, but not in an affectionate way, more in a possessive way. Katharos was being kinda open with her flirting, if he wasn't so unattractive and well... dead... Xander would almost think that the woman's whole plan had been to get Spike. Giles was walking with the three, oblivious to the tension or pretending to be, and submitting random questions.

"No, I mean, why are _we_ here." 

"Sometimes people just like to act as if they care... Its the funniest thing Cordelia... Besides, Buffy told us to come, and like the good little minions we are we obeyed. Not our fault Ms. Mysterious decided to go walkabout in the woods, or that the anti-soul pulled a Bernie Laplante."

"Oh as if he's turned good now." Cordelia snorted, pulling out of Xander's grip to squeeze between two trees, "Apart from the sex I doubt there's anything good about him."

"Apart from the _what_?" Xander spluttered, popping through the trees and narrowly avoiding falling into a bush, "The...?"

"Guys!" Buffy called from up ahead, clipping their conversation, "We've not got all day! We're here... apparently." They'd stopped and were standing in a clearing, mostly dark except for the centre where the moonlight actually managed to meet the grass and turn it into a dark shade of green. Conversation seemed to have halted to wait for the lagging two to arrive. Either that or someone had said something bad, because the silence was hardly comfortable.

"We're here..." Xander said finally after they'd been standing there for a while, just in case no-one had noticed. Buffy nodded an acknowledgement to him so he fell silent, fitting in with everyone else. It appeared everyone was waiting for the stranger to start speaking, and finally Kat took the hint. She stepped out of the group and gestured to the air at her side like a game-show hostess,

"Observe..." she said, waving her arms, "There appears to be nothing here but if you'll all just..." she made a shooing motion, "Walk around me and look at this space of air from the other side..." off their stares she snapped, "Oh please, I had to listen to your bimbo whining, now just do as I God-damn-well-say."

"Would a messenger of the Powers really blaspheme?" Xander wondered out loud.

"Look." Buffy propped her hands against her hips again, "You've done nothing so far to make us believe you're working for good. In fact most of your actions have been swinging towards the dark side. So you'll forgive us for not jumping to it when you give an order. Ask nicely and maybe... maybe... we'll take a look." then as an afterthought she added, "And don't call me a bimbo."

"Okay." the woman said through gritted teeth that somehow made a smile, "Would you please walk around me... and take a look already."

Buffy decided that was as much politeness as she was going to get and so she led the group around Kat. She was supposed to be chosen by the Powers, and this woman was apparently an adversary of them. Shouldn't she show a little more... respect? Obediently Buffy looked at the space of air between the woman's arms from the other side of the clearing, fully expecting to see nothing. Instead she saw a wide white circle. It was shimmering and wriggling slightly at the edges as if it wanted to touch Katharos's arms, but didn't. Other than that it looked perfectly cylindrical, as if someone had drawn it in the air. It was three feet by three feet and just hovered in the air as if they were in a cartoon and someone had rubbed a big hole in the background.

"What the--" Buffy began to say.

"Its a portal." Kat explained, anticipating the question. 

"A portal to... where?" Giles asked, feeling a strong urge to give his glasses a good cleaning.

"To Hell." the brunette answered simply.

"I knew you were evil!" Buffy crowed triumphantly, pointing as well for effect and taking a little leap of the ground in excitement.

"Why do you think that?"

"Well... because you opened a portal to _Hell_..!"

"I didn't open it."

"Oh please, we were all here... we saw it! You held out your arms and... Hell appeared!"

"It was there all along... It just can't be seen from the other side... which is why I asked you to walk around."

"That was just you distracting us while you--" Buffy broke off as Spike wandered around Kat again, eyes fixed on the space between her arms.

"She's right luv, you can't see it from here." he confirmed.

"Oh well... Just because you didn't open it now doesn't mean you didn't do it before!"

"...I opened it then I brought the Vampire here to shut it? Please, doesn't it stand to reason that if I had enough power to open it then I'd be able to close it as well?" she rolled her eyes and stepped away from the portal, arms falling to her sides. It stayed where it was, a blank in the idyllic scenery.

"I'm here to shut... that?" Spike asked doubtfully, moving back around to his Slayer's side.

"Yep." Kat confirmed unhelpfully.

"When David Suchet gets all exposition-y its the best part of the film... in real life... not so fun." Xander whispered to his girlfriend, and Cordelia nodded, their twin bemused expressions almost comical.

"How?" Spike began to ask, before Giles butted in with well-meaning curiosity.

"What does it do? I mean... if you didn't open it, who did? And for what purpose?" He added with a nod to Spike, "And indeed... how is it to be closed?" then with a glance from Buffy, "And why can only Spike do it? It hardly sounds like a job that requires battling."

"Questions." Kat raised a hand to her mouth and faux-yawned, "Boring. But I suppose I'd hardly be fair not to tell you seeing as you came all this way on your little human legs. And I guess when I answer them you'll all leave me alone with Spike here." she said the last with a wink towards the Vampire that caused Buffy's expression to darken. Kat shrugged, "Fine. Firstly it sucks anyone who touches it into Hell."

The group took a collective step backwards, Giles felt his back hit a tree, Cordelia stumbled and was again caught by Xander who she pushed off quickly. Satisfied that she'd gotten their attention and guaranteed some silence, Kat continued,

"Its not what we call a actio-portal. An active portal. Those are the ones that pull things into them and grow. Consume. This is just a... passive hole-in-the-air. Problem being that things can get dragged into it if they touch it, or thrown out occasionally... Like the thing that Spike killed." she raised a hand before Buffy's mouth had even opened, "Shh! As for who did it, I don't know... I'm not sure anyone does, just a random act of evil. To close it someone needs to go inside and petition someone in there to do it... Portals to Hell can only be opened from the outside and closed from the inside. Those are the rules. And" she said quickly as more mouths opened to ask questions, "The reason the Vampire is the best candidate is because he managed to slay some of the hell-spawn that tumbled out here. Its proof that he can take it inside." she pretended to wipe her brow, "Now wasn't that nice and boring... The rest of you can run along now... We've got work to do..." she said, indicating herself and Spike.

"I don't think so." Buffy said, pressing a hand to Spike's chest to stop him from walking forward, "He is not going in there until we've found out more about this place. And he's not going in there alone."

"Buffy..." Giles began to protest.

"No. Giles. _I'm_ the Slayer. _I'm_ the one that saves the world. _I'm_ the one who dies for good. Who risks everything. And more to the point, I'm the one that killed that beast she keeps talking about."

"How do you know?"

"Oh come on, it matches her description and everything. And didn't you say it was like a thing from... what's-his-face's book, or poem, or something, about Hell?"

"Dante's Divine Comedy."

"Yeah."

"Well, I suppose it makes sense but... Buffy, you can't go into the place. Let Spike go he..."

"Is expendable?" Buffy finished.

"Yes." Giles confirmed her choice of the perfect word. Spike frowned but said nothing. They could discuss it until the cows came home, he was not going through that shining circle of white light and that was final. Neither was Buffy if he had anything to say about it.

"Good example!" Kat clicked her fingers, then off their looks explained, "Dante... he documented everything quite well... romanticised everything a bit you understand, but he _was_ a writer."

"You mean..." Giles gasped and frowned all at the same time, "He actually..?"

"Oh yeah." Kat said, perfectly blasé.

"But he lived in Italy..."

"Creative geography." Kat explained with a shrug, "You can open a portal pretty much anywhere." she sighed before admitting, "I guess its not really Hell."

"But you said..." everyone began to say something and Kat waved them off.

"I chose a phrasing that was close enough for you to understand. Its a place of evil, where the dead go... Ergo Hell. But really its more like hell, without the capital H. Its really just another dimension rather than a place to put bad Christians."

"An evil dimension." Buffy stated.

"That's what I said blondie." Kat confirmed, "Dante found a portal to it and managed to escape and write about his adventures. Everyone thought it was fictional. Heck, even he did. Drove him half mad. But that was a long time ago... We thought the spell to open the portal had been lost but... Hey, lookie, not so gone as we thought."

"I'll close it." Buffy said shortly. There was something about it not being the 'real' hell that made it less intimidating. It was like her calling school a hellhole... Except for that really was built on top of one. It wasn't that it wasn't scary, the thought of going to another dimension was a little too sci-fi for her to usually comprehend, but now here it was. She was the Slayer, and it was her duty to save people. It wasn't like the portal could be left hanging open. Besides, if it would give her a chance to take a break from everything. She wasn't running away, she was saving the world. It wasn't _her_ fault that it felt the same.

"Buffy... please... don't make your mind up yet... there's planning to do, and research."

"I want it closed now." Kat snapped, silently accepting that Buffy shutting it would be better than no-one doing the deed.

"No!" Giles stood firm, "If Buffy is to do it, we can't send her in blind. She needs to know about everything. We need time."

"We haven't got time!"

"You said it wasn't doing anything, just sitting here... Surely there is no danger in that for a few days. This part of the forest is nicely secluded."

"Fine!" Kat stamped her foot, "I'll give you three days." she held up three fingers, "And I'll meet you back here at midnight on the third, and I expect you ready!"

"You're talking as if..." Kat disappeared, "...you're going somewhere." Buffy finished lamely.

"Nice trick." Xander commented.

"We'd better get to researching." Cordelia deadpanned, everyone stared and she shrugged, "That's as enthusiastic as I get, live with it."

"I'm not comfortable with this Buffy" Giles said, turning to his Slayer.

"Too bad." she snapped back, "You're my Watcher, remember? You're supposed to want me to save the world!"

"Are things so bad that you want to die?" he asked, "Because going into that hell dimension is the best attempt at suicide I've ever seen."

"So glad you have faith in my abilities. That's really a moral-booster. I'm doing this to save the world, a world that I want to live in."

"Buffy...." Giles sighed and shook his head. After a long moment he looked up and said a few words before turning and walking away into the woods, "_Non omnes possumus omnia_."

"What?" Buffy questioned, but he was already too far gone, or too far annoyed, to answer.

"I guess that was a stirring 'lets go sit on out butts until they go numb'" Cordelia commented before stalking off after Giles, after throwing Buffy an appeasing look Xander followed his girlfriend.

Spike watched the Slayer warily, they were alone for the first time since the night before and he knew this was where he'd see whether the last few hours had been an act. How truly angry she was with him. When she didn't move, he decided to, walking up and placing a hand on her shoulder. She tensed but didn't shrug it off. 

"He said..." Spike leant in and spoke to her ear, his other hand mimicking the motions of the first on Buffy's other shoulder, "'We all cannot do everything.' Its was Latin. Virgil." finally the Slayer moved, ducking out from under his hands, but instead of running away she turned to face him. He didn't try to push his luck by touching her again so soon.

"When did you learn Latin?" she asked, voice tired.

"A... while ago." he demurred. She accepted the answer with a nod.

"You're not really going to go in there..." Spike half-asked. He had intended it to be an order, but it appeared that his vocal chords weren't as stupid as his brain and had turned it into a question.

"Have to."

"No, you don't." 

"If not me, who else?" she said, before breaking into a smile, "Its not like you're going to do it."

"I... could..." Spike said slowly.

"Oh, love the enthusiasm. Its okay Spike, you're not a hero. Or a being of good. It would be... irresponsible of me to send you there."

"You wouldn't be sending me anywhere, I'd be going of my own free will."

"And how long would that last out in a hell-dimension. That place would be like Disney Land for you, without the annoying fur costumes."

"Buffy..." Spike reached out a hand to touch her arm but she dodged it.

"Don't." she took a step backwards and held a hand up when he tried to follow her, "Just don't Spike, okay? I haven't decided about last night yet. Its all... too soon." she sighed, "I don't love you. You don't love me. Why is it so hard to let you go?"

"Are you sure that--"

"Perfectly. Crystal. Absolutely sure. Is it just lust? Is that why I stay with you?"

"I don't know luv.." Spike found his hands fidgeting, and set them about the task of raiding his pockets for anything interesting.

"What kind of person does that make me... Controlled by lust..."

"You need me." Spike said between half-closed lips that were now fixed over an unlit cigarette.

"I don't. I shouldn't. I can't." she shook her head, "I'm not that kind of person anymore. Angel I needed. Needed for him to hold me, protect me. But I can't be held anymore, Spike. Can't pretend the world isn't happening, however much I want..."

"It all comes back to the poof, doesn't it?" Spike spat, unable to keep his emotions in check, "Always about Angel. If its not that you're still in love with him, its that you've been damaged by loving him. Dammit!" he batted at the cigarette that had fallen from his mouth onto his clothes until it was smouldering on the ground, "Look, Slayer, I... Its in your hands now. Us. As well as the world. I didn't put that pressure there, you did. And you don't want me to take it away. And that's fine, but you can't juggle all the balls, sooner or later one is going to drop."

"Let me worry about that."

"Fine... Fine... You better get home, mum'll be worrying."

"Mom..." Buffy thought about the woman sitting at home, staring out into the night, thinking about walking out amongst the demons to find her daughter. Unsafe. Unknowing, "I'm going to have to tell her."

"Tell her what?"

"That I'm the Slayer, of course, how else do I explain my vacation to hell?" she pressed a hand to her forehead, "I need to tell her..." and suddenly all her resolve crumbled. The Slayer didn't need protecting, but Buffy did. Giles had said that love would make her stronger, but she didn't know if she loved him or not. Could she really fall into his arms and ask for him to tell her what to feel. 

"Buffy?" Spike asked slowly, not entirely sure why he felt so nervous. She'd drifted off from speaking and was now just staring off into space, "Are you... all right?"

"What? Yes. Yeah. I'm fine."

"I should take you home" Spike frowned with concern, then with confusion. Why was he being so night all-of-a-sudden? _Because you're trying to get her back_. Why was that so important?

Buffy blinked and looked at Spike. Really looked at him. She wanted to hold onto him and not let go. To comfort him when he cried, and touch him when he hurt. Make it better. And she wanted for him to do the same for. Make her feel better. Did she love him? Or is she being selfish. They could cling to each other for eternity, loving to be loved, holding to be held. Ultimately only doing things to receive them. Giving them back as some kind of redemption to make themselves feel like better people. But they'd still only be thinking of themselves. So much she wanted to fall into his safety, like she had with Angel. But she couldn't use him like that. Not when she didn't love him with that selfless real love that asks for nothing and gives everything. She wanted to take so many things from him and keep them for herself. But if she did, how could she be better than him? How could she be human. Good. 

"No. Spike" she said slowly, drinking in his second of confusion as he tried to work out what she was saying no to. Had she really been thinking that long? "You... You can't ever take me home. We're over."

"You decided this just now?" all soft words were gone from his mouth, understanding expressions dissolving from his face.

"I just realised that... We can't be together. That's all. Please don't..." she wasn't sure what she didn't want him to do. Ask her to reconsider or pretend like it doesn't matter? What would hurt more?

"Fine." Spike was pacing, he wasn't even sure when he'd started, but he suddenly became aware of it. And he stopped in front of her. She couldn't see he was upset, "That works out fine with my plans. Should have left Sunnyhell long ago, only stayed to get a quick roll in the hay with present company, if I'd have known how hard it was to pry apart your thighs I wouldn't have bothered." he started to turn then stopped, thinking of something else to say to make her face crumble a little more, "And you'd better hope you don't need me to close this portal thing, otherwise it could be another apocalypse, and this one would be all your fault."

"Have you finished?" Buffy asked quietly.

"Yeah. I'm done." he spat before turning and walking off into the woods as if he knew exactly where he was going. Buffy watched his retreating back for what seemed like ages before she realised he'd actually gone a long time ago. 

"Well that was heart-warming." Buffy turned and eyed the suddenly present Katharos. She refused to be surprised.

"Fuck off." she said, too tired to argue.

"Language! I'm scandalised!" Kat pressed a hand to her chest and opened her mouth as if she really was taken aback.

"Whatever." Buffy snapped with a roll of the eyes.

"Now I'm even more shocked. Shouldn't the Slayer be above Valley-girl slang?"

"How long were you listening to us?"

"Long enough to see how cold heroes can really be."

"It was for his own good."

"And I can see that he really appreciated that. Don't get me wrong, I think you two sucked as a couple, but if this little spat costs me one fanged Champion than I'm going to be more than a little brassed off."

"I'm still here, why do you need him?"

"Because, honey, I like him."

"He's evil." 

"Really?" Katharos raised her eyebrows as if she knew exactly what was going on in Buffy's head.

"Yes. Really. And I've had about enough of being patronised for one day, so if you'll excuse me, I've got things to do." Buffy almost found herself walking off in the same direction as Spike. Old habits. Instead she walked back the same way she'd come. Kat didn't try to follow or throw as finishing barb. Maybe she wasn't as petty as she appeared most of the time. The argument had been a nice distraction, but now the Slayer was left with her own thoughts. She had to tell her mother about being a demon hunter. Had to change her mom's whole world perspective. Challenge everything she knew to be true and replace it with something frightening. Reveal that she'd been lying for over a year about everything. So how come she was more worried about what her mother would say about her being a fearless-Vampire-dater? Teenage instinct perhaps.

(Author's Note: Yep, here's another attempt at writing. Exposition galore. Thanks for the review again, dustyvamp :-) I hope this chapter didn't suck too badly.)


	10. Communication

Communication

_You could resurrect a thousand words  
To deceive me more and more   
A thousand words will give the reason why  
I don't need you anymore_  
'A Thousand Words' by Savage Garden 

When they'd walked into the woods it had been just past dusk. Dark enough for Spike to travel about outside as it was insisted he was needed. Now as Buffy walked back through the trees it was settling properly into night, the sky turning a darker blue, the half-moon shining that little bit brighter. The lack-of-light wasn't a problem, she'd been out at night almost every day for two years, even someone with no special powers would get used to it after such a long time. Being the Slayer helped though. Ducking under branches and avoiding roots, she was reminded of that night a few months ago, the last time she'd come to these woods, when she and Spike had walked back. It wasn't a sad memory, not even in the context of just having broken up with him. She remembered how happy they had been, tired but ecstatic. It wasn't the path that she remembered, it was the little things, like the smell of the leaves, and the way he'd had an arm around her middle to help her walk. Leather brushing her skin where her T-shirt peaked up. Now it was sad. 

Pretty soon the woods were left behind her and Buffy was walking along the earth track that led her back into a slightly more populated Sunnydale area. She wasn't thinking about what she had to do. Blatantly not thinking about it. Not really thinking about anything, just setting her legs into motion and watching the scenery pass by. When she snapped out of her lack-of-thoughts she noted the places she'd walked to, forgetting mostly how. Residential area, high street, Revello drive. Her house. 

She stared up at her dark window longingly, wishing that she could just climb up there and crawl into bed. She'd still dream though. Bad dreams. But perhaps the comforting covers would chase them from her mind, or the warmth of the blankets make everything disappear from her head so that all that would register would be primal feelings. Warmth. Safety. Comfort. She sighed and walked up the path. Buffy hadn't made it two steps before the door burst open to reveal her mother in a dressing gown that was tied tightly around her middle.

"Buffy? Where on earth have you been?" Her voice contained anger and relief at the same time.

"Mom... There's something I need to tell you."

*** 

"Are you actually going to let Buffy do this then?" Xander questioned, walking a few paces behind Giles as they made their way back to the school and the Library. Cordelia was lagging even further back, talking to her parents --or the help-- on her phone and explaining that she'd be back late again. Xander didn't feel the need to do the same.

"I'm not letting her do anything. This sounds dangerous, and life-threatening. I'm not sure she's even thought about it properly herself. But at least we've got a few days to change her mind now... and if not... we've got time to research and help her survive..." 

"No pressure or anything." Xander grumbled.

"All sorted." Cordelia stated, putting her phone away as she caught up with her boyfriend, "Kinda funny that my 'staying up studying' excuse is actually true this time."

"Funny?" Xander questioned dubiously.

"You know, in the 'not' way." Cordelia reached up to rearrange her hair as she stepped out of the trees onto the dirt path that led to the road. Of all the other thousands of things that would be wrong about Cordelia Chase being seen out at night with her present company, grooming would not be one of them.

"Do we even believe this Kat girl is telling the truth?" Xander shot at the Watcher, who was now far enough ahead to warrant raised voices and angry 'shhs'.

"Xander!" Giles reprimanded, "There are still Vampires and demons around you know, just because we don't seem to be killing them anymore doesn't mean they're not out there, quite the reverse in fact." he had stopped and was now waiting for the two teenagers to catch up. Xander opened his mouth to say something but was silenced when Cordelia slapped him on the arm.

"If you're about to draw the similarities between Mulder and Giles, don't. Too many cute actors have been ruined for me that way." her head snapped around and she continued flawlessly by laying into the Librarian, "And Xander has a point, we might just be playing into some big evil plan, just because she kisses good doesn't mean she is."

"Living proof of that honey." Xander murmured, earning another slap on the arm and allowing Giles time to tame the blush on his cheeks.

"I am well aware," Giles raised his voice above the banter, ignoring his own advice, "that she may not be all that she seems. In fact I am more inclined to think that she is an emissary of dark powers, but at the moment we have reached an impasse. We have an agreement. Hopefully when our three days are up we'll have discovered if she is something to be fought with, or against."

"There was a hint in there somewhere." Cordelia noted and started the group walking again as Xander agreed with a nod. Giles followed, behind them this time, finding shepherding an easier way to keep movement fast.

*** 

Buffy traced the rim of her mug with concentration, moisture from the hot drink collecting on her finger ever-so-slightly in a nicely distracting way. She wasn't thirsty, but as her mother bustled about the kitchen and, subsequently, ordered her around as well, she found it was a nice delay for the inevitable. Joyce was doing the same, arranging things on countertops and straightening shelves out before she asked that question which she was sure was going to end up being answered by those guilty words 'I'm pregnant' or 'I'm flunking out of school' or 'I'm a drug addict'. She didn't want to think those things about her daughter, wouldn't believe for a second that any of them could be true, but if it wasn't any of those options, what else was there?

"You were baking?" Buffy asked, taking in the plastic bowl filled with flour and margarine, and the scales begging to measure out sugar and chocolate chips from open packages. 

"Oh. Yes." Joyce was relieved that her daughter had pointed her in the way of another distraction. She'd gotten angrier and angrier as the time had gotten later and later, so she'd tried to occupy herself with something. The ingredients that before had been a furious escape, now turned into a welcome vent for her anger. Now that her daughter wanted to talk, and she didn't have to drum information out of her, Joyce found herself getting strangely calm, and the rage filtering away to leave only adrenaline-imposed shaky anticipation. As she laid her hands back onto the familiar boxes and jars she continued, "I needed something to do while was up waiting."

"Chocolate-chip cookies?" Buffy queried, dodging the inevitable question, "We used to make those together." she offered a smile to invite her mother to think back to the days when dough would stick in her child's hair, and flour would ruin her dress, and cookies would burn as a young Buffy was coaxed out of a warm bath.

"We used to do a lot of things together." Joyce commented without inflexion, letting the clunk of the scales tell her when she had too much sugar. Buffy's finger slipped over the side of her mug and into the scalding liquid. She only noticed enough to draw it out, all attention fixed on her mother.

"Mom... You might want to sit down while I tell you--"

"I'm fine." Joyce said briskly, "Just... hit me." adding the last two words in a way she usually would around Buffy's friends, trying to be 'cool-mom'. The Slayer only wished she could roll her eyes now and whine at her mother, but somehow it really wasn't the time.

"Okay. Mom." she paused between each word as her brain worked overtime on how to phrase it, what to say first, explain first, "I'm the Slayer." Buffy watched her mother's hands slow for a fraction of a second before resuming their normal pace. This was resolved-mom mode, where she had made up her mind she would be unflappable. Would it still be in place by the end of the conversation?

"Is that some kind of... street name?" Joyce asked calmly.

"No, mom, its.... Its kind of a job description." deep breath, "You see... Vampires are real. And in Sunnydale. Well, actually all over the world, but Sunnydale has a higher than usual population -- not that they did a census or anything... Its just that there's this Hellmouth, which is exactly as it sounds, and it kinda attracts them, because -- you know -- evil. And I'm the Slayer, which means I have to kill them. The Vampires, that is. Well, demons too, if I... come across any..." Buffy reached out and tipped half of the drink into her mouth at once. _Stop talking_. Her mother was glaring at her, calming cookery no longer helping.

"I suppose you think this is funny, Buffy. But it really isn't. If you didn't want to tell me where you were then... I'd have still dragged it out of you... but you didn't need to make fun of me. Was this one of your friend's ideas? William's? I can't believe you would come up with something so... I can't believe that of you Buffy."

"Mom! Its true!" Buffy protested, half-choking on a mouthful of hot-chocolate and indignation.

"Buffy! Go to bed now!" Joyce pointed to the kitchen doorway with a hand covered in margarine, "We'll talk about this tomorrow when you're in a more _sensible_ mood."

"Its real mom!"

"Go. To. Bed." her mother ordered, moving that way herself as if taking her own advice. Buffy stared for a millisecond before darting forward and catching her mom's arm. 

"Please, mom, you _have_ to listen to me. You have to." there was something just so pathetic in the way that she said it that caused Joyce to pause.

"Oh... Buffy..." she sighed, "I don't like being angry with you. You're my daughter and I love you, if you tell me the truth then of course I'll listen... and help you out."

"It was the truth mom..."

"You're obviously over-tired." Joyce snapped, reversing her daughter's grip until she was holding the teenager's wrist and pulling her towards the staircase, "Get some sleep, we'll talk about this in the morning."

"No." Buffy had let herself be pulled as far as the bottom step, but no further. She yanked herself free of her mother's hand, "I didn't want to do this mom, but if you don't believe me, I'll prove it to you."

"Honey..." Joyce was feeling the anger leaving her again, this time being replaced by worry, "Vampires, demons, these things are not real."

"I can show you mom."

Joyce paused. For the smallest of small seconds she felt that childlike willingness bubble up inside her. A need to believe that stretched from closet-monsters to Santa in the blink of an eye. It was smothered quickly of course. The things her daughter was describing were not real. So perhaps she was having some sort of breakdown, or perhaps this was a practical joke she was playing. Or someone was playing on her. Joyce had never thought of Buffy as gullible but... Would it be so bad to indulge her this one time. If she could see what her daughter was describing as Vampires, maybe she could point out how they weren't. Explain the truth to her child as she always tried to do.

"Let me get dressed." she said finally, the defeat in her tone audible to even herself, "And put on some warmer clothes yourself," she added as an afterthought, "you could freeze to death."

"We'll be lucky if the only thing that tries to kill us tonight is the weather." Buffy muttered, but only when her mother was out of earshot. 

*** 

Willow pressed her face into his shirt. It was soft against her skin, material pressing against her eyelids and reminding her they were closed and not just covered, fabric softener smell too strong showing he hadn't quite gotten the hang of the washing machine yet, texture slightly rough as he moved around, reminding her he was awake. He'd speak soon.

It was one of the things about her boyfriend that she treasured the most. The fact that when he spoke, it was just to her. His friends, her friends, wouldn't believe he could talk for so long, but they'd often spent nights sitting there and doing just that. Wrapped in each others arms, or trying to be seriously platonic -- simply touching each other's hair, caressing with comforting looks. They'd kiss and the world wouldn't stop, it'd keep right on going, pulling them with it so they didn't need to open their eyes. Except sometimes one forgot what the other looked like, and eyes would open, smiles would bloom. Words would spill out into the silence. He'd talk soon.

His hand was on her back, tracing little circles with his index finger against the cloth. She didn't want him to stop, but at the same time she wanted to move -- wriggle against his hand, breath a soft laugh against his ear. The two couldn't happen together. As soon as she moved he would, and the moment would be broken in place of a new one. She could speak first, emit words out into the breath-filled void. But she didn't want to be the one to smash something, to open eyes and see where time had brought them now. Even the slightest whisper might break the spell they were under. He'd make a sound soon.

"You think we should try again?" she asked, her patience finally wearing out as if it'd never been there. She raised her head from his chest to catch each movement of his face as he answered. He smiled at her sweetly, but just as she guessed his hand moved from her back, stolen away by a stretch that also broke their locked gaze with yawn-induced squinting.

"Try what again?" he questioned softly, arching an eyebrow at her and provoking a giggle. He wasn't one for innuendo much, but when he used it she always understood the double entendre, much more than when anyone else did. 

"The spell of course, silly..." she slapped his chest playfully, eliciting a grunt from him as he pretended to be in pain. She didn't miss his slight frown amongst all the play-acting, or the way he avoided the question with tickling fingers, but suddenly it was hard to be angry. Or to press the subject. She laughed loudly inside the confines of his room, lying on his bed while his hands sought out tender spots on her body to worry at until she giggled and begged for him to stop. Though she didn't mean it.

"Not now..." he spoke into the once-again settling silence, the laughter dissolving in the air. She turned around on the twisted bedcovers, made knotted by the games, and got comfortable once again lying up against his body. Calming her breath she draped one arm over his middle and set her head somewhere below his arm so that if she strained to hear very hard his heart would thump in her ear. 

"You're tired?" she asked. It sounded more like a statement than a question, and even more like an answer. As if she'd skipped a few questions along and found that this would be his excuse. Cut through all the procrastination at the start to leave more time at the end for other things. 

"Yep." he agreed, understanding. His lazy hand fell back onto her, this time running fingers through her hair and touching the tips as if he wished to grow his own hair as long. Or as if he was memorising each strand. Would he mourn if she had it cut again? What a stupid question. It was only hair. He'd just have to explore it all over again, he'd like that. 

Willow closed her eyes again against his shirt and it felt as if they'd just stepped back to time before and the last few seconds hadn't happened. Perhaps they hadn't and she had only thought about asking him to try again. Maybe in a few minutes she would ask and get the same response. Maybe it was worth looking like a fool just for that. Then again perhaps she should wait and let him have a turn this time, she kept on skipping ahead on the board and leaving him behind, let him have a roll of the dice. Step up to bat. And other euphemisms. She let herself relax fully against him to wait, content with her decision . He'd speak soon.

*** 

"You tellin' me you don't know where your own boyfriend lives?"

"For the last time he is not my boyfriend." Buffy yelled, finally managing to cause a nervous demon at the end of the bar to spill his drink.

"I've heard the talk." Willy said confidently, then off her glare and closed fist amended, "But whatever he is or isn't to you, Slayer, you two do seem to have been a little bit pally last few months. So how come you don't know where he dodges the sun at?"

"Look, Willy, I'm not trying to trick you into... whatever you think I'm going to trick you into. I just need to know where he is."

"How do I know ol' William the Bloody won't be coming in here tomorrow ready to knockabout the guy who blew the whistle on his digs to the Slayer?"

"If I'm going there to kill him he won't be around tomorrow morning, if I'm not then he won't be angry to see me. Hell, you know Spike, he probably won't be bothered either way."

"Slayer, please," Willy still looked uncertain, untrusting. The demons around the bar were all paying attention to the conversation in their own way. All waiting to see how easily the barkeeper would sell out their safety to the Slayer, "I can't tell you." he found his head snapping backwards a second later and blood beginning to drip down onto his bar.

"Now can you tell me?"

"Slayer, I--" another punch.

"How about now?"

"Its Angelus's old mansion, you know the one?" Willy spluttered through a mouth full of blood. He'd had worse injuries, but he still never got used to the pain.

"I... Yes." Buffy tried squinting at the bartender, overcompensating for how wide her eyes must have grown when he'd revealed her ex's abode. How could she have gone out with him so long and not known? How could he have gone out with her so long and not known it would bother her? "Thanks for the info Willy." 

"Always a pleasure." he coughed, doubling over the counter. She turned and stalked out of the bar, welcoming the slightly-less-than-rank smell of its outside to the putrid smell of its inside as she walked back to the locked car where her mother was waiting with strange patience.

*** 

"You didn't say it was a poem!" Xander whined, staring down at the open book in front of him, "No way can I get poetry..."

"Epic poem." Giles corrected defensively, eyes quickly scanning page after page, "Its in relatively small Cantos, even you should be able to manage one... I wish to God we had more than a work of fiction to collect information from."

"Non-fiction now." Xander pointed out, leaning into his book as if hoping getting closer would make the rhyme sensible.

"'With the voice of an angel but in her own language' -- Giles, what are we looking for here?" Cordelia demanded, thumping her book back down on the table.

"Anything that will help--"

"How can we tell what will help? Its just a long boring story, can't you give us the Cliff's Notes and then we'll work from there. At least tell us the questions that need to be answered."

"Like?"

"...How long she'll be gone?" Cordelia prompted. Xander closed his book slowly before laying his head on top of it, noticing his girlfriend questioned, "What _are_ you doing?"

"Despairing." he answered, "Buffy has to go through a portal to hell and her best chance at the moment is the work of Cordelia Chase."

"I--" Cordelia began to speak with outrage but found herself cut off by Giles.

"This is hardly time for remarks like that. Cordelia is right. If I hadn't been so distracted, I would have taken this route all along." He too put his book down and the teenagers relaxed back into their chairs as they observed the Watcher changing into lecture-mode, "The story goes like this, Dante is walking through a forest and attacked by wild animals, he manages to escape and meet with Virgil. Virgil was a writer that Dante greatly respected, and dead at the time of Dante's writing of the epic--"

"Giles, small version." Xander reminded.

"Yes, well. Virgil proceeds to guide Dante through limbo and the nine circles of hell, then up through purgatory and into paradise."

"See! Nine circles! That's one thing we know now we didn't know before." Cordelia realised she was getting excited, and so stopped, calming her persona, "We need Willow, getting enthusiastic about knowledge is her job."

"I think we're all forgetting that we still don't know whether this is a trap or not. This woman could have read this book -- though I don't see why she'd want to -- and decided it'd be a perfect substantial lie to get the Slayer to step into a portal."

"You forget, she wants Spike."

"And that's fine we me, let her have him, but Buffy won't let him go." Xander shrugged.

"Well gee, if you wanted to know more about me, you shoulda just asked." Kat piped up from behind the stacks before moving into view. The other three occupants of the Library stared up at her expectantly and she sighed, "Here's a tip for you -- ever get the power to teleport, don't use it all the time, the shock factor wears out.... Right, what's the first question?"

*** 

"Spike!" she called, the name reverberating around the cavernous ceiling. She didn't bother calling a second time, she knew he'd heard her. And a few moments later movement at the top of the staircase confirmed that. He stepped out into the moonlight, hair ruffled and eyes half closed as if she'd just woken him from sleep. His gaze didn't meet hers immediately, instead he ran a hand over his hair and stretched a few tired muscles. He didn't even acknowledge that he knew they were here, but his very presence was enough to show that he did. Stepping further into the light she could see he was wearing a pair of jeans and nothing else, bare chest flashing the world. When he finally looked up he grinned, instead of looking embarrassed he stuck his chest out a little more. Buffy immediately looked away. Spike's eyes flickered to the person beside the Slayer, and grin growing a little, said,

"Buffy, Joyce, to what do I owe this honour?"

"Show us your bumpies." Buffy demanded, wanting to get this meeting over as soon as possible. Spike raised a leering eyebrow before starting a slow decent of the stairs, each step bringing him unbearably closer. When he was halfway down it was as if he couldn't hold in his retort a moment longer, 

"Flashing was never really my style luv."

"Is this where you live, William?" Joyce asked nervously. The man who usually behaved so politely around her seemed different. What kind of parent would let their child stay in a place like this? Perhaps it wasn't up to them. She'd always assumed he was around Buffy's age, but now she looked at him he did look a little older. How hadn't she seen that the first time round? _Didn't see, or didn't want to see?_ No, she was just letting her daughter's words frighten her now. Maybe her boyfriend was older that she'd suspected, but that was all. 

"Yes." Spike answered, eyes never leaving Buffy, "It might not look like much, but it holds some very _special_ memories for me does this place." he finally finished walking down the staircase, reaching the bottom he stalked towards the two women, stopping a couple of feet away. If the tiles bothered his bare feet he didn't say.

Buffy felt her teeth grinding together and loosened her jaw. She wasn't going to let him upset her. So what if he enjoyed staying in a place where he fucked his ex when he was going out with someone else. She'd broke up with him, after all. She'd thought this was going to be the easiest place to bring her mother to experience Vamp-ness without actually getting into a fight. But punching Spike was probably going to be the quickest way to get him into game face. Now he knew what she wanted, he'd make her work for it.

The Slayer's hand impacted with Spike's face just as it had begun to grow that disgusting smirk he liked to ware. There was satisfactory smack and some annoyed British exclamations as he stumbled back and clutched at his face. Had she broken his nose? She hadn't meant to hit that hard... But maybe she was a little angry. So often she'd wondered about what other agenda Spike might have about dating her. To kill her. To fuck her. To hurt her. But eventually, usually when she saw him, those worries would be washed away and she'd believe that he wanted to be with _her_, just because she was her. Now with this evidence, maybe it was all about causing her pain.

"Buffy!" her mother's shocked voice was louder that Spike's grumbling, which only caused him to increase in volume.

"Bloody hell woman!" Spike yelped loudly, "You only had to ask nicely and I'd have shown you. No need to resort to violence."

"There is so many ways in which that is funny Spike, that believe me I'll be laughing later, but for now -- just show, and we'll leave."

"Never had such an attractive offer." Spike muttered, but nevertheless he pulled his hands away from his face to show of the lack-of human mask. Joyce simply stared, after a long while Spike seemed to get bored of being the freak-show and spoke to Buffy again, "So you finally decided to tell your mum, huh?"

"This is some kind of..." Joyce's voice trailed off as she stared at Spike's face. 

"Mom?" Buffy touched her mother's arm, tone concerned.

"It was true?" Joyce questioned, "Vampire's are... real?"

Spike crossed his arms over his chest and set up a slouching pose to show he was thoroughly bored by the whole thing. If Buffy'd still been his girlfriend he might have at least pretended to care, but now he worked overtime to show that things would be different. Perhaps she'd forgotten how nasty he could be. She was half-turned away from him, tending to her mother, and it would be so easy for him to slip in and bite her neck.

Buffy wanted to yell at Spike to 'go away' but she needed to deal with her mom first. She rubbed the older woman's upper-arm to try and massage the shock and fear from her features. Buffy wanted to concentrate on her task, but every now-and-then her gaze flickered back to the Vampire. She told herself she was doing the Slayer-thing, keeping an eye on her prey and everything. But she wasn't so much as watching for movement as... _checking him out_. It wasn't as if she'd never seen him shirtless before, but that had been when some rough demon-play had led to ripped clothes. And any nudity had been peppered by blood and curses. But now... _he's dead_... with his hair all mussed... _and evil_... well-defined muscles... 

"Buffy... Why did you never tell me before?" Joyce's voice was weak. She didn't want to be scared, so shocked seemed the best way to go. Parents weren't allowed to be scared in front of their children, it was in the rule-book or something.

"I... didn't want you to get involved mom... Might have put you in danger without meaning to... I didn't like lying to you..." Buffy broke gaze with her mother, looking down at the floor, "... Sometimes it was just so hard, and I wanted to come home and crawl into your arms. Tell you everything and make you sort it out like you always used to do. But..." _You couldn't make it better this time_. "...There wasn't much you could have done and I..." _Didn't want my ideal of an infallible mother to be shattered_, "...didn't want you to get hurt trying. Mom...." _I needed so badly to believe that if things fell to their worst I could run to you and you'd save me_, "... I love you..." _Just like you've always saved me_, "... I couldn't loose you..." _Just like you can't save me_, "... I was protecting you..." _Just like I save you_.

"Buffy... Honey.." Joyce reached out and wiped a tear from her daughter's face. Where had they come from? Buffy looked up and pleaded bittersweet with her mother 'don't lie to me now', "...You're not wrong, I probably couldn't have helped you against... All of this. But you could have, should have, still told me. I would have tried my hardest to see you safe."

And there it was. No more promises. No more final plan. No more last hope that this was just a dream. A nightmare that her mother would pull her from and comfort her until dawn. Her mother was human, like the thousands of other pulsing, swearing, sweaty people that she saved every night. She couldn't make the world a better place -- like she made Buffy feel it could be. So it truly was the Slayer. Fighting and dying. Protecting and sacrificing. Alone.

"Are we all done now?" Spike asked, pissed at having to hang around, "The weepy-session was great and all, but some of us have things to do that don't make other people fall asleep just _listening_ to.."

Buffy turned a tired face to Spike. She was out of ogle mode and into kick-his-annoying-British-ass mode. So what if his jeans road extremely low on his hips, and his bellybutton was... nefarious! Evil! And also... a danger to the world. Stuff like that didn't stop her from doing her job. Or at least the fun, witty, repartee part of her job.

"Shut up, Spike."

"Oh, you wound me." he pressed a hand to his chest just about where his heart doesn't-beat.

"Not yet, but I will."

"Aren't we past the idle-threats part of the banter yet?"

"You tell me Spikey, you're the one who's all 'see you on Saturday', _leer_ leer, and yet I'm still not dead."

"If it was half as easy to get you to fight as it is to get you to cry, I'd have no problem."

"Seriously Spike, half-a-year of watching me fight and you still haven't got it yet? Someone better send back their 'how to be Angelus' fun-pack, because it obviously didn't work."

"What makes you think I've ever wanted to be like that poof?"

"I dunno, the hair-gel was a bit of a tip-off." she gestured to the slowly curling locks upon his head. All the while moving in front of her mother in case things got violent.

"Buffy." the one word, name, was said with a sudden seriousness, as if he wasn't in the mood to play anymore, "Whatever issues you have with your _'sob'_ Angel, you might want to stop projecting them onto every guy you meet."

"You're not a guy, you're a Vampire." the Slayer pointed out smugly.

"And so was he. You might not be able to deal with the fact that I want... wanted to be with you for you. But that is not even half as painful as the fact that you wanted to be with me for him. At least I wasn't using you as a substitute."

"A...For Dru? Crazy-Mrs-Rochester-Lady? You can hardly blame our perspectives for being different. I am so far above your last girlfriend that she's a little SimCity-person, but you're no comparison to Angel. Can you blame me for wanting more?"

"More than a guy that lo--"

"Is this the older guy from college? Was he a Vampire too?" Joyce butted in, looking questioningly at her daughter.

"Yes, mom." Buffy replied, glaring at Spike as she said it, "Angel was a Vampire."

"But he was good, like William?"

"No!" the couple both screamed at once. 

"Sp-Willaim is not good, mom, he's evil. Which is why we should be leaving now."

"Yeah, its dangerous here." Spike agreed.

"Uh, could you go on ahead mom... I just want so say something to William... in private..." she was back to being the daughter again, prompting the embarrassing mother out of the room. 

"All right honey, if you think its safe, I'll be waiting in the car." then after a pause, "With the doors locked." she walked out the way they'd both come in, tracing back passages with the hope she was remembering correctly.

Once her mother was gone Buffy sighed. No longer angry she stepped closer to Spike, who shook back on the human mask as if he was hiding.

"I didn't mean to..."

"Save it."

"..hurt you." Buffy soldiered on.

"Oh please, are you so much of a masochist you want more? I was only in it to... cause you pain. And to enjoy doin' it. And maybe get a shag out of it an' all. There were no saccharine feelings, you're right, I'm not your darling Angel. So get out. Stay out. And leave me alone." he turned and began walking back up the stairs. What was wrong with him? Why wasn't he killing her right now and drinking her blood?

"I--"

"I said GET LOST!" he yelled, not bothering to turn around but picking up the pace so that he was at the top of the steps and back into the shadows in a few seconds.

"...Fine, but I'll be dragging your lazy ass out of bed if the apocalypse comes a-callin'"

*** 

"How do we know you're telling the truth?" Xander asked straight away.

"Read." Kat commanded, pointing at the books before them, "You'll see I'm telling the truth."

"There isn't any mention of you in these." Giles stated.

"Oh, what do you guy's want, my actual name? 'Cause you're so not going to get it. But think about who plays my role... In the story..." she prompted.

"Uh... Virgil... he was the other guy you mentioned, right Giles?" Cordelia resented being made to feel that she had to contribute, but Kat's pointing fingers were making her nervous.

"No, not the poet. Jeez, what, did you give these kids the 'ten-word' run down of the plot? Think harder."

"You're not Beatrice?" Giles asked, frowning.

"B-I-N-G-O, and Bingo was his name-o. Of course Beatrice."

"Who?" Cordelia questioned, joining the frown-club.

"She was a... messenger... who prompted Dante to go on his quest." Giles explained, dumbing it down as he went.

"So you've done your research, big whup, still doesn't mean you're telling the truth." Xander pursued his point.

"You people are just so jaded, aren't you?" Kat placed a hand on her hip, her mouth quirking up at the side as if she found them all very amusing.

"We've seen that she has powers, Xander... Perhaps we're just supposed to believe." Giles sighed, "Haven't you got anything more substantial to show us?"

"You want proof? That I can't give you. You can help, or not, save the world, or not. Free will is something God gave to mankind. So is guilt. Which is something you'll be feeling when the world is ending and you could have stopped it."

"We should let Buffy decide. However much we want to protect her... its up to her in the end." Giles said slowly

"Right! Good! Nice point! Any more questions?" Kat felt a grin spreading over her face, "You do know the relevance of the other characters, don't you?"

*** 

"What is going on?"

"What do you mean mom?" Buffy shut the car door slowly and settled back down in her seat.

"William, he's never been that rude before."

"He's... we're not going out anymore, mom."

"Oh. But he's still a Vampire?"

"Yes, mom, I just... You just saw!"

"...Right..."

"Can we just go home mom, I'm kinda tired."

"Its late." Joyce stated in a way Buffy was sure she wouldn't have said a few hours before. Able to slay Vamps ergo able to stay out late? Perhaps there were perks to the job. Buffy rubbed forearms to try and smooth down the goose bumps from the cold night air. After the car failed to kick into motion she glanced over at her mother questioningly.

"Buffy, why did you choose to tell me now?"

"Mom..."

"Please Buffy.."

"There's.." she sighed, "...something about to happen, and I thought it would be best for me to tell you in case I..."

"..get hurt?"

"Die."

"Oh God, Buffy, you can't do this job... Not if things are that serious. Get someone else to..."

"Save the world? There is only me, mom. I know its hard for you to understand, but..."

"No! Buffy, I've been calm about this, I've listened and believed. You were right, the world is different. There are things out there that I never even dreamt of. I accept that. But its not fair to have you fight them."

"Ain't that the truth." Buffy agreed, "But I have to... Its like the ultimate high-risk job, I know, but I save people's lives, mom. I... give them hope."

"That shouldn't be your job! You're only seventeen."

"I've changed my mind."

"What?"

"I don't want to go home just yet."

"Well, you've.."

"Slayer business mom... There are some things I need to check."

"Buffy, I can't--"

"I'll give you directions or you can let me out and I'll walk. I'm sorry, but I'm getting to the end of my tether."

"I want to be involved in this, Buffy."

"You can be. You can research and..." Buffy's eyes widened as she remembered a job that would be perfect for her mother, "...you can call someone!" off her mother's sceptical look she grinned, "No, this person can answer all your questions, and you can be helping me in the process."

"Okay, what's the number?"

*** 

"Okay guys, what's the what?--" Buffy asked cheerfully as she walked into the Library. Her expression turned sour when she took in the full group and her eyes fell on Kat, "--And why the hell is _she_ here?"

"Just here to help like everyone else, Miss Bottle-Blonde." Kat replied with a smile. She had been constantly hovering happily around the slumped others and offering much needed, but somehow-annoying, advice since she'd arrived.

"Great." Buffy promptly blocked her out, turning her attention to Giles, "What have we found out?"

"Well, Katharos has been very helpful, but I'm sorry to say that we've not found much out about this dimension that you're planning on going to. Its risky Buffy, and very--"

"I've already decided to go, skip the 'its so foolhardy I'm taking off my glasses' speech and help me survive." Buffy drew her lips together as Giles sighed and stood up. Sure-enough the glasses came off and the handkerchief out.

"We have got one piece of information that you might... Need to sit down to hear." he admitted finally.

"How shocking could it be?"

"Its not that..." glasses back on, faint smile, "...its just a rather long explanation."

"Oh." Buffy yanked a chair out from beneath the Library table with much clattering and sat down. Cordelia appeared to be dozing off next to her, head resting on a frozen Xander's shoulder who seemed terrified of moving. Giles sat back down, leaving Kat to float around in the background like a ghost.

"Well... The man, Dante, that wrote about going into this hell dimension, had a guide called Virgil. He resided in one of the circles of hell, and was to take Dante through the others. Many times Dante cannot gain access to places with Virgil's help, and vice versa. Virgil is turned away from many places until it is seen that Dante is with him."

"Uh huh." Buffy felt herself relaxing into the chair. 

"If we look at the character's modern day counterparts its clear that you, Buffy, would play the role of Dante. A pure-living soul moving through hell. But that leaves one place needing to be filled. Without your Virgil you might not be able even enter this place safely."

"Why can't ol' Kat go with me? Or someone else?"

"I'm touched you'd think of me. But I've already got a role to fill, honey."

"None of us here would fit the requirements to play Virgil." Giles leant forward, trying to make his Slayer understand what he was saying, "Virgil was the dark to Dante's light. He was dead and impure. Able to guide, do, and understand the hellish place better than Dante because he was willing to inflict pain. And because he had already seen so much himself."

"So you're saying...." Buffy felt her voice trailing off. She knew where this was heading already. Kat was grinning gleefully behind Giles, practically dancing on the spot as she waiting for the words to be uttered. 

"We need Spike." Giles confirmed.

Buffy sighed.

"Why is someone always saying that?"

(Author's Note: Appologies would seem a bit futile, but I am sorry that this chapter is so late. Exams, stress, you get the picture. But -- on the bright side -- yay, reviews! Thanks everyone who reviewed the last chapter. Hope you like this one.)


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